


Unbreakable

by elysenpai



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, CyberLife, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female reader insert, Fluff, Post-Android Revolution, Reader Insert, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Trafficking, Violence, because i love those and i never wrote one so imam try my hand at that, criminal investigations, mention of drug and abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2019-10-27 13:39:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17767820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysenpai/pseuds/elysenpai
Summary: A simple Red Ice investigation turned out to be more serious than anticipated.





	1. Colder

**Author's Note:**

> This is version 2.0 of (You Don't Know How It Feels Like To Fall In Love With You). It is mostly the same story, but important plotlines have been edited and it's written better with the help of my beta!
> 
> Hope you will enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you come back to an unsettlingly calm city.

>   **April 4th, 2039 - 0934 am**

 

As the sun hid behind grey clouds, the pouring rain soaked the few pedestrians brave enough to step outside. You hadn’t seen the city in a long time, and it felt strange to be back. The quiet streets, the construction sites on hold for an undetermined time, sale signs jabbed in front yards and ‘for sale’ signs plastered on shop windows; Detroit seemed emptier than when you left. The city was calm. Oddly calming.

 

The aftermath of the Android Revolution still lingered on the city that desperately tried to get back on its feet. Pro-Android thinkers had flocked to Detroit, but it was drops in the bucket against the flood of people fleeing the technology metropolis.

 

The American Androids Act was modified, allowing androids to wear any clothes they wanted even if they worked with the public, but they were still required to wear an LED at all times. All existing androids who had removed theirs had to get a new one, and in exchange, they had the right to work, to own properties, and access to all public places. They were finally equal to humans.

 

They had the choice to keep executing the functions they were doing before becoming deviant, or they could pursue a different career. Cyberlife continued to provide androids for the public services and any fields that were lacking personnel, but it was now illegal to buy an android for yourself.

 

Nervousness and excitement overwhelmed you when you received the news from the captain of the LAPD that you were being relocated back to Detroit after your investigation. You were ecstatic but anxious to see the state the city was in and to reunite with your friends and coworkers. 

 

The autonomous taxi you were sitting in smoothly drove to Central Station, your old workplace. It stopped in front of the tall, prominent building and the doors opened in a swift motion. You grabbed your bag and the cardboard box containing your personal belongings and stepped into the drizzle. You shivered as the cold made your teeth chatter. The light coat you wore wasn’t warm enough for the chilling air of Detroit. 

 

You made your way into the precinct, stopping by the reception desk to receive your pass to enter the offices. A female android greeted you, her LED spinning blue at the sight of you. A smile spread on her lips.

 

“Detective,” she said your last name with enthusiasm. “It’s been a while, welcome back!” She slid your pass on the counter. You nodded in gratitude and took the pass.

 

You were taken aback by the lack of police officers in the precinct. The atmosphere felt cold and different from what you were used to. You made your way between the desks to Hank’s. Your eyes scanned the wall with the articles praising him on his excellent work as a soft smile spread on your lips. Your stare traveled down to the framed picture of the Red Ice Task Force team of the precinct. There were words scribbled on it by each face, in Hank’s handwriting. His comment on you, ‘not that annoying,’ made you chuckle.

 

His desk was still a mess, not surprising. You turned to the office in front of his, lowering your cardboard box on the white surface when something caught your attention. A nameplate read “ _ Detective Connor _ .” You stood still in front of the empty desk looking for some hints it could belong to someone, but nothing there was nothing. Your eyebrows knitted together. Who in the hell had the patience to sit in front of Hank? As far as you knew, you had been the only one who could put up with him and his grumpiness. You looked around for another spot, but they were too far from your old partner. An empty desk was next to  _ Detective Connor,  _ and you shrugged before you swung your bag onto it along with your box. It was now yours. 

 

You pinned up pictures of you and the friends you had made in L.A. - most of them being coworkers - on the board in front of the desk along with a picture of yourself standing proudly beside a teacher of the Police Academy on the day of your graduation. You had a small plastic plant, rather than a real one because you were terrible at taking care of  _ anything _ living. At that thought, you glanced over at Hank’s desk to see his little plant, withered. It stood sadly next to his terminal, waiting to be thrown away. You chuckled and shook your head. You remembered the day he had brought in the plant; you hadn’t been able to contain your laughter as he put it on his desk. You finished by setting up your nameplate and discarded the box under your desk.

 

You met Hank when you joined the DPD. The desk in front of him was the only one available, and you were assigned your first case with him. He  _ hated _ to have a partner, and he made sure you knew it, but with your hot-headed temper,  _ you _ made sure he knew it wouldn’t get to you, which gained you some respect in Hank’s book. The partnership turned into a friendship, and soon the old man refused to work with anyone else.

 

Two years ago, you were relocated to Los Angeles for a big Red Ice bust, and you had to leave him behind. You had finally arrested the heads of the cartel after a long and tedious investigation that had left you with some scars - physically and emotionally - but it was one of the most exceptional experiences of your career. Hank had been offered a post on the Task Force as the leader due to his record, but he had declined. He proposed you go to Captain Fowler instead. You tried to talk him out of it, to go back to his decision and accept the investigation, but he’d refused every time. He couldn’t be bothered to go to L.A., that’s what he kept telling you, but he always thought you deserved it more than him. He had proven himself many times during his career; it was  _ your _ time now.

 

Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized someone was standing beside you. You were absentmindedly spinning on your chair from left to right. You were only aware of the presence to your side when you hit something. You jumped as your head snapped in the direction of the man hovering over you. The LED on his temple slowly spun a pale blue.

 

“Hi, my name is Connor. I believe you are Detective,” The android spoke hesitantly, his eyes shifting to your nameplate to get it right. He extended his hand to you. You were taken aback by his human approach. You slowly brought your hand to his and shook it, surprised to feel the warmth of his smooth skin on your palm. “I’ve heard great things about you.” The android continued.

 

“Oh, did you?” You scoffed and turned to your terminal to log into the system.

 

“Yes,” The android replied, sitting down at his desk. “Lieutenant Anderson told me about you when we got the news that you were joining the Detroit Police force again.” You shook your head in disbelief. How could an android be sitting in front of Hank all day? The man had such a hatred for these robots; you couldn’t imagine a day in the poor android’s shoes. But what was the most surprising was that this Connor android had conversations with Hank.

 

“You’re friendly with Hank?  _ You _ got him to talk?” You asked, raising an eyebrow to Connor.

 

“Yes, Detective. It was not an easy task to accomplish, but I am confident to say that we are friends. Familiar to each other, to say the least.” He smiled, and you hummed, amused. You missed quite a lot these past two years.

 

“How did you get him to like you? It took me  _ a lot _ of drinks at Jimmy’s to get him to  _ look _ at me.”

 

“He was worse than you,” A voice you knew too well spoke behind you. “Took months, but this bastard managed to win me over, I guess.” Hank stood behind you. You spun on your chair and let out a small joyous yelp and embraced him. He reciprocated the hug, tightening his grip around your shoulders. “How are you doing, kid?”

 

Despite his grumpy attitude and his constant swearing, you missed the old man. He was the best partner you had the chance to work with. During your investigation in L.A., you often found yourself calling him late at night when you didn’t know how to proceed next. After the hurricane of insults, he would help you until you had an idea of what to do. He was the father figure in your life, a figure that was not present in your childhood. It wasn’t always easy to work with Hank, but he still had your back, no matter what. You were partners, friends, even  _ family _ . You could count on him, and he could count on you. 

 

You sat back on your chair and pointed to Connor. “You got yourself an android?” Hank rolled his eyes and made his way to his desk. As he passed the android, he patted him on the shoulder.

 

“They shipped him to me, and I lost the receipt.” He smirked. You saw a faint smile forming on Connor’s lips as his hands start to get busy fixing his tie. Hank sat down at his desk with a sigh.

 

You and Hank briefly caught up with each other. Many things changed in the precinct, but he spared the details for your well being. Gavin’s suspension was the only highlight worth mentioning. 

 

Captain Fowler made his entrance and called you to his office. You rose from your chair and entered his glass cube. “Glad to have you back in the precinct, Detective,” he shook your hand before he took place behind his desk, resting his laced fingers on top of a case file.

 

“I’m happy to be back,” you replied as you took a seat in front of him. “I will have to upgrade my wardrobe with warmer clothes, but I’m glad I could come back to Detroit.” A chuckle escaped your Captain’s throat, and he shifted his attention to you, his eyes locked on yours, his wrinkles more pronounced. Just like that, his intense gaze shifted the mood inside the office.

 

“I know we discussed it through the phone a month ago,” he sighs. “But you’re welcome to delay your start date, if not two weeks, at least one.” You purse your lips; you didn’t like where this was going. He shook his head and held his hands up. “Listen,” he said your name, concern in his voice. “I know your last bust was a strenuous investigation, I’ll acknowledge it, especially for what’s up there,” His fingers tapped his temple, “You’re a good cop, and I want the best for you-”

 

“I’m alright, Captain,” You cut him off. “I’m ready to work, and I don’t need any breaks.” Fowler nodded slowly. It was useless to argue; you wouldn’t change your mind. 

 

He slid a datapad across his desk, and you grabbed it, quickly skimming the document on the screen before your eyes went back to your Captain. 

 

“A Red Ice Bust?” You scoffed. 

 

“It was for Reed, but due to the recent events...” he laid back in his chair with his arms crossed on his chest. “You were my best plan B.” A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.  “Show me what you got,” he continued with your last name.

 

“I won’t let you down, Captain.” 

 

∆

 

Fingers drummed nervously on your desk as you read in depth the file Captain Fowler gave you. Your eyes scanned the papers, your brain collected the information, and your other hand was scribbling the names of suspects and other important info on a notepad. Your feet started tapping in an irregular rhythm on the back wall under your desk. Hank dropped his datapad in a dramatic matter. He cursed your last name, catching your attention.

 

“Stop that with your foot, or I swear I’ll break it!” You rolled your eyes and uncrossed your legs to put your fidgeting foot on the ground.

 

“Calm down, Grandpa,” you muttered under your breath. Hank resumed his work and so did you, still drumming your fingers on the surface of your desk. 

 

You had the feeling someone was staring at you. You stole a glance at Connor who was looking at you. You caught each other’s eyes, and you averted your gaze to your file, but the android kept staring. A faint rush of blood spread on your cheeks. You looked back at him. “Is there anything I can help you with, Connor?”

 

“Your level of nicotine is getting low. I can sense you’re starting to get nervous,” His eyes went to your fidgeting hand. “Smoking isn’t good for humans. It’s harmful to your lungs and-”

 

“I know.” You cut him off. You closed your file and stood up abruptly, Hank’s head snapped in your direction. You rummaged through your bag to find your pack of cigarettes and your lighter.

 

“Smoking is bad for you, Detective,” Connor continued. 

 

“ _ I know _ ,” You grabbed your coat and slipped your arms into the sleeves. “I have enough of Miles telling me about it,” You mumbled as you made your way to the hallway, but Hank called out your name, stopping you in your tracks. You spun on your heels, facing the old man.

 

“Since when are you talking to that guy?” He asked, crossing his arms on his chest. You sighed and resumed your walk toward the exit.

 

“It’s been a while… Now, if you’ll excuse me,” You waved the pack of cigarettes in the air.

 

A sharp wind swept your hair mercilessly as you opened the door of the precinct’s roof. You absentmindedly kicked the door closed as your hands busied themselves to light up your cigarette, one desperately trying to flick the lighter and the other shielding the flame from the wind. 

 

You took one long drag of the toxic substance, fully aware it was terrible for you, but damn it felt good. The throbbing forming at the back of your head disappeared as soon as the smoke filled your lungs. It was still drizzling, but you needed your fix of nicotine. That lousy habit you started in Los Angeles would catch up to you, and you knew that but it was a quick stress reliever, and it was an effective one. One simple cigarette could help melt the stress hoarding on your shoulders.

 

Moving back to your home town was stressful. The news were experts in making things more prominent than they were, and from what you heard about the Android Revolution, you wouldn’t have been surprised to come back to a city reduced to smoke and ash, chaos still roaming the streets of Detroit. Luckily, that wasn’t the case. 

 

You leaned your elbows on the ledge of the roof, the ash of your cigarette scattering to the wind. Detroit wasn’t what you used to know. You gazed at the skyscrapers, their tips disappearing in the grey clouds. Your eyes traveled down to the quiet streets below; you were used to car horns and shouting of busy roads. But, there was  _ nothing _ . Detroit  _ was _ different. It felt  _ colder _ , emptier.

 

You crushed the remainder of your cigarette on the ledged and headed back inside. You shook the water off your coat and draped it over your chair. Hank greeted you with a scowl. “Don’t you dare to give me that look,” You pointed an accusing finger at him. “You can lecture me once you give up drinking.”

 

“I didn’t say anythin’,” Hank said in his defense, his hands held up. “But I can still disapprove.”

 

You muttered an insult under your breath to which Hank answered with a menacing ‘ _ I heard you.’ _ You ignored him, a small smile spreading on your lips. You dove back into your investigation. 

 

_ Welcome back _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Leia & Matt for beta-ing my story <3


	2. Flight or Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you get hit and yelled at.

** **

 

> ** April 14th, 2039 - 0217 pm **

Raindrops splattered down your windshield, the wipers doing their best to wipe the pouring water. You drove down the quiet street of a residential area of the south side - _the poor side of the city_. Captain Fowler assigned you a car you could borrow during your investigations, an old model of autonomous car you could switch to manual driving if you wished to.

Temple Street was empty, the houses abandoned and threatening to fall apart at any given moment. It saddens you to see the city in such a desperate state. Nothing like the Detroit you grew up in.

You had few leads for your investigation, but you managed to find a name in the police database that retained your attention: Andrei Dahmer, a drug dealer, often arrested in the past year for his Red Ice dealing. That shit was still circulating in the streets of Detroit, and you swore to yourself you would take down anyone who was at the head of the operations. You did it with Hank in the task force, and you did it in Los Angeles; you would do it  _again_ for this investigation. You had the medal rewarding you for your great leadership and for successfully taking down the biggest Red Ice cartel of the east coast, some small-town drug dealer had no chance against you.

You parked the car in front of a run-down house, checking twice on the GPS on the dashboard if you had the right address. You couldn’t believe someone could live in that hell-hole. The roof of the porch could collapse at any moment and barricades were set up on the windows. You walked to the front door and knocked. No answer. You heard shuffling behind the door, a loud thump, then nothing. Your fist pounded on the door.

“Detroit police, open up!” You shouted — more shuffling from the other side followed by the slam of a door. Several locks were unlocked before the door opened slightly on a skinny young woman with greasy hair and dark circles under her eyes. She was fidgety, wiping her nose every five seconds and looked overall nervous. You showed her your badge as you stated your name and you could  _feel_  her becoming more nervous, never meeting your gaze.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, ma’am. I had a few questions about Andrei Dahmer, do you happen to know anything about him or his whereabouts?” Your hand ghosted the grip of your gun in its holster. Something wasn’t right with this woman, and your suspicion gradually rose to your senses.

“I- I don’t know him,” She hurried to answer, her grip tightening on the edge of the door.

“Alright, do you mind if I ask you a few questions? It won’t be long.” You smiled at her. You tried to use a friendly tone to gain her trust. “Can I come in?”

“No!” She exclaimed. Your palm grabbed the grip of your gun. “Now is not a good time,” She whispered.

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” You mimicked her tone. “Do you need help?” You took a step forward, and she tried to close the door on you, but you were quick and stopped it with your foot. Her breaths became erratic as panic rose in her, and she tried to close the door once more. You pushed it open with your shoulder. The door flew open, and the woman stumbled backward, her back hitting an old armchair.

You entered a poorly lit living room with trash littering the floor. The coffee table in the middle of the small living room caught your attention with the mountain of dollar bills covering it along with small bags containing a red substance and a smoking pipe. A staircase to the right led to the second floor, and a door was right under the stairs, several locks keeping whatever there was on the other side from escaping.

The small woman moved fast, and she was now holding a piece of wood in her hand, holding it like a baseball bat. Her bloodshot eyes were fixed on you, ready to attack if you made any sudden moves. You kept a hand up.

“Ma’am,” you took a step forward, and her grip tightened around her weapon of fortune, her knuckles turning white. “I’m here to help you if you’re in danger. Is there anyone else in the house?” She stayed silent and kept staring at you, analyzing your every move. You couldn’t get your gun out of its holster; she would hit you with the bat, swinging your head out of the park.

You heard muffled cries. The lady’s eyes shifted nervously towards the locked door, and you took the opportunity to grab your gun, you extended your hand, finger on the trigger while your other hand cupped the butt of your weapon. The woman’s stare went back to you, and her eyes widened at the sight of your gun. You stood your ground, ready to fire if she tried anything.

“I will repeat one last time,” You firmly said. “Is there  _anyone else_  in the house with you?” The woman let out a cry and threw her stick at your head. You dodged at the last minute, the end of the stick grazing your arm as it flew past you. Heavy footstep came from the second floor, and a man ran down half the stairs before stopping dead in his track at the sight of you. Your eyes locked with his and you recognized him. It was your man.  _Andrei Dahmer_.

“Shit!” He cursed before running back upstairs. Time stopped around you; you were now at a crossroad with a choice to make between two essential pieces for your investigation — evidence of Red Ice dealing, or the dealer himself. The clock was ticking, and you had to think fast.

“Don’t move!” You yelled as you ran after Dahmer. You followed him into a room and dodged at the last minute a punch thrown at your face. You grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, between his shoulder blades. He let out a cry of pain, and you kicked the back of his legs, sending him to his knees on the dusty floor of the room. “Andrei Dahmer, you are under arrest for dealing and possession of illegal substances. You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answers questions. Anything you say may be used-” You were cut off by a hard blow on the side of your head. You stumbled to the side and let go of the dealer’s arm.

“Run, Andrei!” A shout tainted with panic rang in your ears. Between heavy eyelids, you saw your man running to the window at the back of the room. He opened it before sliding himself outside with the agility of a cat. You tried to blink the pain away as a breathy curse escaped your lips. The woman stayed still in the doorframe, holding the same wooden stick she had thrown at you earlier in shaky hands. One hand of the rod had blood on it — your blood. Your hand went to your temple, and you felt the warm crimson liquid under your fingertips.

The room was spinning; blurry vision threatened to keep you from focusing on your primary mission. The mass of your body somehow managed to stumble toward the scared woman, but she fled instantly. Clumsy hands found the wall for balance, and you leaned on it as your wobbly legs were about to give up on you at any given moment.

The faint ringing in your head silenced itself, and your vision became clearer. You walked to the open winded just in time to see the woman running through the broken fence of the backyard with a duffel bag, Andrei waiting for her in a running car. He didn’t give her the time to close the door, the tires screeched on the concrete, leaving a cloud of dust behind, the loud growl of the engine fading in the distance.

Your fist pounded on the window sill, and a stinging pain exploded in your skull. You let out a frustrated “Fuck!”. You made your way downstairs to find the coffee table cleaned of all the evidence of drug dealing. You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, frustrated to the outcome of the investigation of your lead. You decided to look around the house in case you could find other drugs or any illegal activities that could save you from a lecture of the Captain. You couldn’t go back to the precinct empty-handed.

The locked doors under the stairs were your only hope. You unlocked the few locks and opened the door slowly, gun on the ready. You flicked the switch on the wall, and a small light bulb lit up above your head, giving you little light to the basement. The wooden stairs creaked loudly under each of your steps, and you hoped the planks wouldn’t give up under your weight.

The dark hallway reeked a foul odor, and you tried your best to not throw up on your shoes. Another light bulb hung from the low ceiling, but it wouldn’t light up when you pulled the string down. A shaky sigh escaped your lips and cautiously kept walking into the darkness, one hand on the dusty wall to lead you.

Your fingertips grazed cold metal, and they found a switch. You flicked it open, silently praying it would light up. And it did.

The dim light of the light bulb revealed a wooden door with locks, once again, and a faint light came from underneath. Your knuckles tapped softly on the door. “Hello?” You heard shuffling on the other side and whispers. “I’m coming in,” you shouted, ignoring the throbbing pain in your head raising your voice caused. You unlocked the door, turned the doorknob, but it didn’t budge. It was key locked. You cursed under your breath and took a step back. You raised your gun, waited a few seconds and you pulled the trigger on the doorknob. The wood shattered in small fragments and with one hard kick, you broke the remaining of the doorknob. A cautious hand pushed the door open with a loud creaking noise. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me…” You muttered to yourself.

It was a big room with mattresses laying around on the floor, covered with dirty blankets and pillows. A small night light plugged on the wall next to the door, and another one to the back of the room didn't provide enough light for the entire room. You took a few steps in and looked for a better light source, but movements at the back of the room caught your attention. You lowered your gun as you realized there were five female androids crouched down on the farthest corner of the room, half naked, Thirium covering their damaged plastic limbs. They all seemed distressed to your intrusion. A limp deactivated body laid beside them, dried blue blood coming from her mouth and nose.

You put your gun back in your holster and took out your phone to call for reinforcement.

∆

A perimeter was set up around the house, and the androids were escorted out of the basement by Cyberlife employees. They needed repairs before you could interrogate them, plus their level of stress was too high, you didn’t want to risk their self-destruction.

A small group of curious neighbors gathered around to see what was happening. Loud whispers emerged from the group as the medical examiners rolled out the dead android on a stretcher hidden inside a white body bag with  _Cyberlife_  printed on one of the panels of the material. You watched them load the white van with the body from the back of an ambulance as an android paramedic tended to your wound on your temple. The forensics were working in the house like busy bees; the police officers took the nearest neighbors’ depositions about the man and the woman that lived in the house and you, you did nothing as you got hit on the head. Hard. The pounding in your head got stronger because the painkillers didn't kick in yet. 

Hank’s deep voice echoed from the crowd; he made his way to the house followed closely by Connor. They met Ben Collins who was standing on the porch, working on his datapad, filtering the evidence the forensic team was logging in. Connor looked around, and he caught your eyes. You looked away, ashamed of yourself for failing your first task, which was to  _question_  suspects.

The android made his way to you, leaving Hank behind who was getting briefed on the situation. You locked your gaze on the tip of your shoes. Connor’s shiny shoes appeared in your sight, then his face as he crouched to your level, balancing his elbows on his knees. He tilted his head and forced your eyes to meet his deep brown orbs. His stare went to the side of your head to your bandaged wound, his LED flickering a bright yellow before settling back to its usual blue.

“Detective,” your last name rolled from his tongue. “Are you alright?” The worries in his voice couldn’t go unnoticed. You nodded slightly, wincing at the pain the movement caused in your skull.

“Yes, thanks for asking, Connor.” You tried to smile, but the pain was unbearable. You wondered how long it would take for the painkillers to do the job they were supposed to do.

“You don’t look so good.” he continued, the space between his eyebrows creasing slightly. You waved him off with a faint smile that turned into a wince as Hank yelled out your last name. His angry figure walked straight towards you like an arrow aiming right to the middle of a target. You braced yourself for a lecture.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Hank’s angry voice filled your head, threatening the headache to spread to the entirety of your skull. Connor straightened himself and took a step back, hands crossed behind his back.

Your old partner stood in front of you, his fists on his hips and his stare burned holes in your figure. “I asked you a question.”

“Cut me some slack, will you? I know I fucked up,” You exhaled loudly as you rubbed your face with your hands before burying it into them.

“No, I won’t!” Hank spatted. You’ve been back for a week, and you’re already causing troubles that could get you  _killed_!” He paced in front of you, irritated. “Why didn’t you ask to be accompanied, these drugs dealers are unpredictable-”

“Yeah, I learned that the hard way!” You snapped your head in his direction. You clenched your jaw, hands squeezing your knees as your knuckles turned white. Hank exhaled loudly from his nose, and he restored his position in front of you.

“You know better, kid! Never go by yourself-”

“I didn’t know it would go this way!” Anger filled you, and you stood up to be at Hank’s level, fists clenched to your sides. You knew you messed up, you knew you had been reckless, but the last thing you needed right now was a scolding from a person you looked up to. You were a grown person, a decorated police officer and you didn’t  _need_  to be lectured like a  _child_.

“What Lieutenant Anderson is trying to say,” Connor’s stepped in. His hand went to your shoulder and pushed you slightly away from Hank. You sat back down on the edge of the ambulance, annoyed, daggers in your eyes as you kept staring at Hank. “He was worried about you when we received the call from Officer Collins that you were hurt.” You rolled your eyes.

“It’s just a scratch, nothing but a flesh wound…” You muttered, but Hank heard you.

“That’s not the fucking point,” he spatted your name, anger rumbling in his chest. You were about to snap back once again, but Connor held his hand up, and you shut your mouth. You chewed the inside of your cheek to stop the snarky comments to escape.

You were already furious you had let your guard down. Your main suspect was now on the loose with an accomplice along with all the evidence you needed to accuse him of drug dealing. Captain Fowler was probably already fuming in his office, waiting for you to pass the door of the precinct to call you in his office. You knew you’d be yelled at. You didn’t need Hank to do it too.

You rose to your feet and walked towards the house. “What are you doing, now?” Hank’s asked, his voice still tainted with anger.

“I’m gonna investigate my crime scene. Does the army need to escort me?” You spun on your heels to face Hank. He opened his mouth to reply, but Connor was faster than him.

“We will help you in a moment, Detective.” Hank’s eyes narrowed in the android’s direction. You nodded and walked to the house, ignoring Hank’s comments behind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Leia my love for beta/proof-reading my fanfic! You help me so much and I feel like my writing is better from your help <3
> 
> In the process of re-writing the whole thing, you guys might like it better like this! Can't wait for you to read it!
> 
> gif credit: resourceangel.tumblr.com


	3. Reckless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Connor find you a lead.

****

> **April 14th, 2039 - 0347 pm**

 

The edge of the rubber glove snapped on your wrist as you released it. The painkillers were now doing their job, and you could think more clearly. Hank followed not long after you entered the house, you heard his voice addressing Detective Collins outside the door as you crouched near the coffee table in the living room, a bright yellow evidence marker was on the floor near on the table’s leg. Fine particles of Red Ice crushed on the dirty floor mixed with the dust and dirt.

 

Someone crouched beside you. “Acetone, lithium, thirium, toluene and hydrochloric acid,” Connor listed as he analyzed the substance.

“Red Ice,” You turned your head in his direction, and he responded with a simple nod. You stood up and met Hank’s stare, arms crossed on his chest. 

“What do we got?” He asked.

“Evidence my suspect was indeed dealing Red Ice. The woman who answered the door swiped everything clean, though.” You sighed frustrated. “Damn it,” You cursed under your breath. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Connor peeking his head into the basement. You turned the attention back to Hank whose gaze hadn’t left your figure. “What?” You spat. He shook his head slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He scoffed and mumbled something before wandering further back in the house. You took a mental note to apologize to him later for your outburst earlier. You were still in shock from the encounter with your suspect.

 

You went upstairs to investigate the remaining rooms. Your gloved hands opened empty doors with mattresses laying on the dirty floor. You made your way to the place you had almost apprehended your suspect. An evidence marker was on the floor next to the wooden stick used by the woman. You winced at the sight of blood splatter covering one end of the wood, your hand instinctively going to your bandaged temple. The wound would last a couple of days, and it would be bruised for a good week or so. 

 

“Detective,” A calculated voice spoke your last name behind you. You jumped on your spot, your hand reaching to your gun as you other palmed your chest where your heart threatened to burst out from. 

“Jesus, Connor,” You exclaimed. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” You breathed, steadying your raging heartbeat. 

“I’m sorry, Detective, but I think you should come to take a look.” He pointed down the corridor with his thumb. You followed the android to a room you had previously opened the door. Connor cautiously stepped inside, walking to the middle of the empty room. “Something’s under these planks.” And to prove his point, he tapped his heel; a hollow sound came from underneath. “Like a hidden compartment.” He tilted his head in your direction.

“Can you get to it?” You asked, eager to see what could be hiding underneath.

“Of course, please, stand back.” You took a step back and watched Connor swiftly kicking down on the spot he had shown you. The planks shattered and Connor’s leg was now through the floor up to the middle of his calf. He retrieved his foot and crouched down to remove the remaining planks. You leaned over his shoulder to peek inside the hidden compartment. 

 

A cell phone, an old model from a decade ago, laid still at the bottom of the dusty hole. Faint lined grazed the dust under the mobile device as if someone had taken the phone recently. 

 

You pat Connor on the shoulder. He tilted his head to the side, his face dangerously close to yours. His LED flickered yellow for a brief moment before returning to its usual color, but you didn’t see the change as your eyes focused on what could be a new lead. 

 

“Congrats, Connor,” You squeezed his shoulder lightly. You dove your hand in the hole and retrieved the cellphone, a satisfied smirk on your lips. “You have no idea how you just saved my ass. Come, we gotta show this to Hank,” You left in a hurry downstairs, excited to show Hank your blow to the head wasn’t for nothing. Connor straightened himself and fixed his tie before following you downstairs. 

 

∆

 

With a content sigh, you laid back on your chair; tilting hit slightly backward, laced fingers behind your head. You completed your report in record time. Connor’s discovery at Dahmer’s house was a significant step towards solving this investigation. The phone was now under analysis as you requested for any fingerprints on the device, a complete history log of his calls and messages. All the evidence you needed to handcuff him for drug dealing were probably on that phone.

 

You were still waiting on a Cyberlife call regarding the androids found in the basement. You reached out to them when you arrived at the precinct, but you were given little to no information as to when they would provide the results or their analysis. 

 

You spun on your chair in the direction of your neighbor focused on analyzing files that scrolled on his terminal at an alluring speed. You rolled your chair over to him and waited until he sensed your presence. He turned his attention to you, a smile spreading on his lips. “Yes, Detective? Can I help you?”

You scoffed. “Stop all these formalities, Connor. Call me by my name.” You smiled at him. Your eyes traveled to his belt where the Detroit Police badge shine, securely attached to him. His vest was hung on the back of his chair, leaving him in his crisp white button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

“Is there something wrong?” Connor pronounced your first name, pulling you out of your thoughts. You were staring for a while now. You cleared your throat and adjusted your position in your chair.

 

You crossed your legs, balancing your ankle on your knee. “How does it feel?”

“Excuse me?” He asked.

“How does it feel to be considered an equal, to be… free?” You leaned your cheek on your closed fist, waiting for an answer. Connor, the Deviant Hunter becoming a Deviant was Cyberlife the least expected result to the civil war.  _ Or was it? _

 

He furrowed his brows, thinking while the LED spun on his temple. He opened his mouth to answer but closed it right away. Connor rotated his chair to face you. “It’s a strange feeling,” He answered softly. His hand rested on his knees, slightly squeezing the fabric of his pants, “I’m still getting accustomed to it. I think this is what fear feels like. The idea of Cyberlife taking me away and tearing me into pieces to examine my software… frightens me,” he trailed off. Your expression softened as your right hand laid softly on his. You felt the warmth of his skin underneath your palm. You were always amazed by how Cyberlife had given them such human likes features. 

 

“Hank told me I had nothing to worry about,” He smiled, and you squeezed his hands slightly. 

“He is right. You are part of the family, so stop worrying.” You pointed to his badge with your chin. “We will have your back no matter what, you can count on everyone in the precinct.” You winked at him; his LED went gold. You tried to hide the little smile teasing at the corner of your lips. You rolled back to your desk and resumed your task, scrolling through pieces evidence found from Dahmer’s house.

 

Connor collected himself, shaking his head slightly before turning to his terminal. You stole a glance at him. His hands rested on his desk, palmed pressed on the white surface. His shoulders rose to the rhythm of his programmed respiratory system used to imitate the body functions of humans. 

 

“Are you alright, Connor?” You spoke softly. He flinched and nodded, keeping his back to you. You were scared if that was too much for him. He wasn’t used to your friendly manners, after all. 

“All these… feelings,” he looked at you over his shoulder, eyes locking with yours. “They are… overwhelming, sometimes. Hank said I would get used to it, eventually, but… I have so much to learn,” He trailed off. Your feet were about to push your chair over to the android, but you stopped once Hank’s figure came in your field of vision. He stood in front of his desk with a mug filled with freshly brewed coffee.

 

“Connor,” He grabbed the android’s attention. “You alright, son?” Hank to a sip of his hot beverage, pulling his chair from under his desk before plumping himself down. Connor’s hand went to his collar. You expected him to fix his tie as you used to see him do, but his finger hooked inside his collar, softly pulling on it. Was he…  _ flustered _ ?

 

“Y-Yes,” he blurted out to his partner. “Everything is alright. Detective,” he spoke your name as he turned his focus to you. “and I were just having a little chat.” Hank’s eyes squinted and clicked his tongue. He was undoubtedly annoyed. You held your hands up in a defensive way. 

“If she’s giving you too much trouble,” Hank sat his cup down on his desk over old circular stains of caffeine. “Let me know,” He sat back in his chair, lacing his fingers over his stomach. “She can be a real pest when she’s at it.” You threw a mechanical pencil at him. He tried to dodge it which almost caused him to fall backward on his seat. A soft chuckle escaped Connor’s lips. 

 

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I think I can handle it.” He shot you a shy smile and resumed his work.

“I have my eyes on you,’ Hank warned you, your last name said with a playful yet firm tone. The Lieutenant threw the pencil back at you. You caught it in midair and set it back into your pen holder. “Keep the flirting for the drunk guys at Jimmy’s.”

“I am not-  _ Hank _ !” You cheeks flared up as Hank laughed. You looked at Connor who was smirking at you, his arms crossed on his desk. 

 

Captain Fowler erupted from his glass cage, leaning on the railing of the small steps in front of his door. “Anderson,” he spatted your last name too. “In my office.  _ Now _ .” He shouted loud enough for the whole precinct to hear before going back behind his desk.

 

“Here comes trouble,” Hank sighed as he pushed himself off his chair, grabbing his mug at the same time. You exhaled loudly and rose to your feet, Connor following behind. He held the door open to you, and you nodded before taking a seat beside Hank.

“I wasn’t missing this,” you muttered loud enough for your old partner to hear you, but not your Captain.

 

∆

 

Officers and detectives outside of Fowler's glass fortress gathered as they watched the Captain unleash his anger towards you. You slumped in your chair the higher his voice rose as he lectured you on your investigation from yesterday. Hank listened quietly, sipping on his caffeinated beverage. Connor stood still behind you both, hands folded in front of him.

 

“I was delighted to have you back in the precinct, but I’m less enjoying these kinds of escapades you do on your own, pulling some heroic shit like you were an invincible cop!” His eyes shifted to Connor for a moment before resuming to drill holes in yours. You started to feel the effect of the painkillers from this morning to wear off. The blood pumping in your temple threatened a headache in the next few minutes. You averted your eyes elsewhere; you hated to be yelled at. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” Fowler ordered, a menacing finger pointed at your small figure. You heard Hank snickering, and you kicked his shin with the back of your heel, causing him to spill coffee on his shirt. 

 

“You’re not in L.A., anymore. You’re not the leader of a drug bust. What would have happened if that woman hadn’t hit you with a wooden stick but had blown your brain out? We found an armory of semi-automatic rifles in the attic; what if she had taken one and drilled you with holes?” The Captain leaned forward, his hands supporting his weight on his desk.

“I know it might not have been my brightest idea…” You began, lifting your hands slightly.

“Damn right, it wasn’t!” Hank scoffed. “You could have been killed!”

“Hank,” Fowler held a hand up to silence him. “Let me do the talking.” Your attention went back to your furious superior. His angry stare found your regretful one. “It might have been different in the LAPD, but here,” his finger stabbed the surface of his desk. “Here, you come to me when you have a lead so I can provide you with the best assistance for  _ successful results _ . I could have assigned you a partner, and never would you have been assaulted, and your guy would be in custody.” Fowler opened a case file on his desks with pictures taken by the forensic team at Dahmer’s house. “What would have happened if they had to throw you in that room with these androids and sold you for whatever business was happening there?” You sat back on your chair and glued your eyes to the tip of your boots. 

 

Fowler was right. You had been reckless, still in the mindset of your old operation. The basement had been a great discovery for your investigation, but your prime suspect was on the loose and knew the law was after him. It would get more challenging to get your handcuffs around his wrists.

 

You were also lucky you got out of the situation with a bruise on the side of your head instead of locked up in the dark basement of the rundown house.

 

“I know I fucked up!” You shouted, anger bubbling inside of you as your palms slammed on the armrests of your chair. “But Connor got us a lead,” You extended your hand behind to the android. “Can we get digging into it before my guy leaves the state or even the country? Plus, with what we found in the basement-”

“Exactly,” Fowler’s hands motioned to Connor. “ _ He _ got you a lead. You just got smacked on the head like an  _ amateur _ !” You rose to your feet so fast the chair went rolling behind you. Connor stopped it with his hands before it ran on his feet. 

 

“I came back to Detroit to help you, not to be insulted like a piece of shit!” It was your turn to point an accusing finger. “I gave up great opportunities back in L.A. for your precinct! I’m doing you a big favor by being here; don’t make me regret my decision.” You lashed out at him, your voice rising until you were screaming at him. Hank didn't dare to interrupt, nor did Connor. 

 

“Don’t act like you’re the only hope of the precinct,” he spatted your first name. “You might be good at your job, but you’re not irreplaceable.”

“Alright, Jeffrey, that’s enough,” Hank finally intervened. You were about to lose control. You clenched your fists so tightly, your fingernails dug into your palms, almost opening the flesh. You spun on your heels and left the office. You gripped the long handle of the door and swung it open with such force, the metal handle crashed into the glass wall, sending vibrations running to the other walls. Fowler commanded you to come back by your last name, but you ignored him.

 

“Get your ass back in here!” He yelled. You marched to your desk, grabbed your pack of cigarettes and shoved Officer Miller aside as he tried to joke to lighten up the mood. Now was  _ not _ a good time. 

 

A loud sigh escaped the Captain’s lips as he let himself fall back into his chair. “Don’t you have any snarky comments for me?” He asked Hank. The old man only looked at his mug and raised it slightly in the air.

“I need more coffee.” Fowler scoffed at his comment and laid back in his chair, fingers pressed on his temples. 

“I want you to keep an eye on her, Hank.” His gaze lifted to meet the old man’s. “The Captain of LAPD wanted her to take a break after the bust, and I do too,” He shook his head.” You know her; she wouldn’t listen.”

“You should have assigned her to desk duty,” Hank replied. The Captain let out a chuckle.

“Yeah, and she would be storming into my office every ten minutes, complaining she wants to go back on the field.” He shook his head again. “I thought Gavin’s case was a smaller matter.”

“Give her some time,” Hank stood up and walked to the door. “She will eventually come down from her high horses,” The Captain nodded slowly and dismissed the two men.

 

Connor rolled the chair back to its original spot in front of Fowler’s desk. He could still smell your perfume imbued on the vinyl of the chair. He fixed his tie and slightly bowed his head to his superior and then followed Hank to his desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Don't be shy to comments, tell me what you think so far of my story, I'm curious!
> 
> Thanks to my bae Leia for proof-reading my fic! <3


	4. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you get a personal chauffeur

****

 

> **April 15th, 2039 - 1104 am**

 

You tilted your head back as you let the smoke out of your lungs, the cloud rapidly dispersing in the cold air. The small of your back leaned against the ledge of the roof; an arm crossed over your chest as your other hand held the cancer stick to your face. You nibbled on dead skin on your thumb as the cigarette shook slightly between your index and middle finger.

 

You made a mistake,  _ a small one _ , you thought. You miscalculated the situation, and you ended up wounded in the process, but  _ no big deal _ . You got a concussion back in L.A. after a raid, and your Captain never said a word about it. In just a couple of days, you were back on the field and chasing criminals. Fowler was furious because he could have lost you. And his words from earlier still reverberated in your ears repeatedly and stung under your skin. Perhaps his words left you more pain than the wound itself.

 

You took a long drag, tilted your head back again and let the smoke escape from your parted lips. It tasted terrible, but the effect it had on you was calming, relaxing. You couldn’t imagine trying to stop smoking now, with all the stress of moving out and the stress the case put on your shoulders.

 

The door of the staircase opened with a loud creaking of its old metal hinges. Hank stood in the frame, one hand in his pants’ pocket as the other held the door open. You rolled your eyes and crushed the remaining of your cigarette before flicking it aside. You turned over to the skyline, arms resting on the ledge. 

 

Hank slowly made his way to you, kicking the pebbles covering the rooftop. He rested his crossed arms on the ledge beside you, his eyes getting lost with yours in the horizon. 

 

“When Ben called me and told me you got assaulted,” He began softly. “I imagined all of the worst scenarios possible.” He hung his head low. You turned your face slightly in his direction, fixing his profile. “I lost too much; I can’t lose  _ you _ .” He straightened himself and grabbed your arm before pulling you in a tight embrace. Hank wasn’t a hugging man. You could count on one hand the times he had held you in his arms.

 

The first time was after the Red Ice Task Force dismantled a drug cartel in Detroit. The team you’re part of had been rewarded by the commissioner and the mayor of the city. In just three years, you were able to stand proud with your colleagues and awarded for your courage, persistence, and perseverance. He hugged you after the ceremony, repeating over and over how proud he was of you.

 

The second time was when you ended things with an ex-lover. In the middle of the night, you knocked on his door, shaken up by the events that had occurred an hour before. Hank hated to see people crying, but that night, he said nothing as he patted your head, your face buried on his shoulder and cried your heart out. He hugged you, hoping it would help the healing process of your scarred heart. 

 

The third time was at the airport before you left for Los Angeles two years ago. You swore you saw tears wetting his eyes as he tried to keep a strong façade. The bond you built with him made it through when you parted ways as a new opportunity awaited you on the other side of the country. He hugged you, quietly telling you how proud he was of you, wishing you the best in your investigation, and  _ to come back only when you’d find them fucking bastards _ . 

 

The fourth time was when you came back to Detroit.

 

And the last time was now.

 

“I know you’re a goddamn good cop,” He held your shoulders in his large hands and backed away slightly to look at you. “Never do something so reckless again.” You nodded and swallowed the tightness forming in your throat. You were scared you disappointed him, the one you were looking up to all these years, working by his side.

 

A whisper escaped your lips, a small apology. He brought you back against his chest. After a moment, he let you go, stealing your pack of cigarettes in your back pocket.

 

“Anderson, what are you doing?” You exclaimed as you watched him tapped the bottom of your pack to get a cigarette out. He shoved it between his lips, a playful smile forming on them.

“Smoking,” He extended his hand. You scoffed and gave him your lighter. 

 

∆

 

Hank and Connor were gone investigating a homicide on the other side of town and you were left alone in the quiet precinct. You absentmindedly tapped the tip of your pen on the surface of your desk in a steady rhythm. As your chin rested in your palm, your eyes glanced over your notepad and your case file, not reading anything. You were old school, and even though all the data you needed were in your terminal, you still liked to take notes on a sheet of paper. You retained the information better that way. 

 

You were brought harshly from your train of thoughts by two rough hands grabbing your shoulders from behind. You elbowed the person standing behind you in its chest, twisting your body to face them as you stood up. Your hand went instinctively to your gun.

 

“Easy, sweetheart,” Gavin held his hands up. “Don’t want to go happy trigger in here, don’t cha?” He winked at you; a smug look painted on his face. A deep growling sound left your throat as you sat back in your chair, diving your nose back into your work. “Not even a greeting to your coworker?” He grabbed the armrest of your chair and spun you around to face him. Your eyes locked with his, a scowl on your face.

 

Hank told you about Gavin’s behavior towards androids. You despised him for being a total asshole, for everything he was. When the precinct started to lose his human officers, a few androids got hired to patch the holes in the force, but it wasn’t enough. Gavin never liked the idea of working with androids and now, he hated the fact they were  _ equals _ . 

 

You knew he got suspended for an altercation between him and an android officer, but Hank refused to give you any details about the quarrel, except Gavin had to follow an anger management program during his suspension. Telling you that much was already enough to get  _ him _ suspended. The Captain ordered to everyone present during the incident to never say a word about it, no matter who asked, no matter what. 

 

“Hi. Leave me alone.” You flatly answered, spinning back. His hands found their way on your shoulders again; his breath blew close to your ear.

“I heard you were working on my case during my little vacation,” You could hear the amusement in his voice, and it irritated you to the highest point. “Don’t fuck it up,” You stood up fast, leveling your eyes with his. He took a step back at your sudden outburst.

“You mean your suspension?” You raised your eyebrows as his smirk faded into a flat line, annoyed. Hank’s trust was the only thing holding you back from spilling everything you knew.

 

He stared at you with narrowed eyes for a brief moment, his fists resting on his hips. Gavin ignored your remark as he scanned the office above your head. He didn’t want to talk about it.

 

“The old drunk and the tin can aren’t here?”

“No.  _ Hank _ and  _ Connor _ aren’t here. Want to leave them a message?” He shot you a weird glance when he heard the android’s name rolling out of your tongue. His fists tightened. You crossed your arms and straightened your spine. You used to be so scared of Gavin back when you began in DPD. His aura never left a good feeling in your guts. You learned how to answer back to his snarky comments by watching him and your old partner bickering together.

 

“Whatever,” he scoffed and made his way to Captain Fowler’s office, leaving you standing in front of your chair. You twisted your neck and followed him with your gaze, only letting your guard down once he sat down in one of the leather chairs in front of your superior’s desk. Your eyes locked with his and he winked at you before his tongue wet his bottom lip. Your face scrunched up in disgust, and you plopped back down on your chair, lowering your head to your work.

 

∆

 

Your shift ended a few minutes ago, but you still slouched on your chair, your heels propped up on the white surface of your desk. You nibbled on the tip of your pen as your eyes were glued to the screen of your terminal, nervous fingers folding and unfolding the corner of a page of your notepad, footage of a suspect’s interrogation Gavin had conducted played on a loop. His tone and manners irritated you so much, but you had to sit through it if you wanted to get to the bottom of your case. The suspect was involved in the Red Ice dealing; maybe it could help you solve your case. 

 

In the recording, he stood in front of the handcuffed suspect, his hands slamming a lot on the metal table, but it drew no reactions from the man sitting silently, defying Reed with his cold stare. You tilted your head from side to side until you heard the satisfying cracking sound of your joints. 

 

Hank left the precinct right after he came back from his investigation with Connor. As for the android, he reviewed the evidence collected and typed down his report. You look to your left; the android was still sitting in his chair, his hands flying over the keyboard, paragraphs pilling up on the screen as he wrote to an inhuman speed. You found it funny he decided to use such a human way to deliver his reports. You knew he could generate the whole document in his software and send it to Captain Fowler’s terminal, but seeing him making an effort to adapt to the deviancy like that brought a small smile to your lips. 

 

Connor suddenly slammed his hand on his desk, making you flinch. Your feet reached the ground to steady yourself, your hands gripping the armrests each side of you. “Jesus Christ,  _ Connor _ !” You exclaimed. The android’s attention drew to you; worries spilled on his features. “What’s with you and scaring me like that all the time?” you huffed.

“I-I… I’m sorry, Detective. I was just pleased. I finished my report. It was my first time writing one.” His eyes went to his hands. He gave you a sheepish smile; you couldn’t stay mad at him with this look on his face.

 

“Congratulations, Connor. Does this mean you can write mine from now on?” His eyebrow cocked as a response and a playful smile on your lips. A small chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head. 

“I’m afraid I’m not allowed to do so, Detective. But I can give you the assistance that you need to put your reports in order..” He smirked at you with a wink. You scoffed as you turned your face away from him. You didn’t want Connor to notice the color spreading on your cheeks.

 

You shoved your datapad in your bag, along with your notepad, before swinging it over your shoulder. Connor slid his jacket on and fixed his tie before turning his body towards you. Your eyes lingered on his model number on his chest.

 

“Any plans for tonight?” You asked him as you both exited the precinct.

“I might review some evidence again. I’ll make sure nothing we did not overlook something.” He answered, digging his hands into his pockets.

“You never cease to work, don’t you?” You nudged his side with your elbow. His LED spun yellow before turning back to its usual pale blue.

“I will stop when there is no more case to solve.” He replied.

 

Outside, you stopped in your track as Connor continued to walk. When he no longer felt your presence beside him, he turned around, a puzzled look on his features. “Something wrong?” he asked, making his way to you.

“I was wondering,” You began, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “Where do you go after your shifts end, Connor?”

“Home.” He replied without hesitation as if it was apparent. You knitted your eyebrows together and encouraged him to continue.

“Home as in…?”

“Home,” he repeated. “After I became deviant, I decided to cut ties with Cyberlife; I wouldn’t go back there every night. Hank says they are buying peace, but,” He shrugged. “They granted me a place to live.” A black self-driving car parked in front of the station, the doors slid open in a swift motion. Connor peaked behind him, and his attention got back to you. He tilted his chin towards the engine. “Need a ride home?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't smoke, sorry if you don't, but it's gonna be useful for the plot, later on, trust me on this one!
> 
> Thanks to Leia as always for beta'ing the fic <3
> 
> Thanks to you for reading!


	5. Personal Chauffeur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Connor drives you home.

 

 

 

> **April 15th, 2039 - 0624 pm**

 

You sat quietly at the back of Connor’s car - another gift from Cyberlife. The soft humming of the electric engine filled the lack of conversation. The android was looking out the window, one of his hand toyed with a coin while the other had his chin buried in it, his elbow on the window sill.

The car silently made his way into the streets of Detroit. You eyed the few pedestrians returning home, merchants closing their stores for the night. People roamed the streets, entering bars or restaurants to spend the evening. You never saw the city that quiet, it was unsettling. You wondered how long it would take before Detroit returned to his usual busy streets because now, the few brave enough to fight against the cold weather of the changing season were androids who couldn’t feel the wind on their plastic bodies. Most of them were androids Connor freed from the Cyberlife tower the fateful night of the Revolution. They were living a normal life. _Free_. Like Connor now.

Your head suddenly snapped in his direction.

 

“I never told you my address!” You exclaimed, twisting your body towards him. His head slowly turned to you, a small smile formed at the corner of his lips.

“No, you did not.” He grabbed the opening of his vest and straightened it. “It was written in your file.”

“You read my file?” You narrowed your eyes.

“Yes.” His eyes locked with yours. “I wanted to know more about my new coworker.” He smiled fully at you.

“These damn files,” You muttered under your breath. A scoff escaped you as you returned your attention outside to the skyscrapers, most of them being empty office towers. “Where do you live, Connor? I’m curious.” You asked him, your eyes taking in his profile as he stared out the window again.

“I see you haven’t read mine.” An amused look appeared on his face. You shot him a glance, and he smiled again. “Kamski Tower downtown. Last floor.” His eyes didn’t leave the sky as he answered. Of course, what a smart way to keep tracks on him.

 

The Kamski Tower was one of the most luxurious and expensive buildings in the city, mostly funded by the Cyberlife creator himself. All hallways, corners, crooks, and crannies of the property were monitored 24/7 with the most advanced technology, not even available on the market. The Kamski Tower was a real fortress guarding the richest in the city, and you were now sitting beside the one residing at the top of the tower.

But wait, the _top_ of the tower?

 

“You live in the penthouse!?” You exclaimed louder than you had intended to, which took Connor by surprise. His gaze tore from the cloudy sky and met your widened eyes.

“Yes,” He answered as if it was apparent. Your mouth twitched, trying to articulate an answer, but in vain.

 

“Unbelievable!” You finally spoke. Connor knitted his eyebrows together. “I dismantled the biggest drug cartel of the West Coast, and all I get in return is a damn check, and you get to live in a _free_ penthouse in the most luxurious living complex ever built in Detroit?” Your hands slammed on your thighs as you let them fall in defeat. You shook your head.

 

“Unbelievable, I have to ask for a raise first thing on Monday.” You rubbed your face with your palm.

“Do you want to live in the penthouse, too?” You were taken aback by Connor’s question. Your whole body snapped back again in his direction. What did he ask?

 

He looked at you with an innocent look, the coin balanced on his knuckles. It was a genuine question. “N-No! No, no no, I’m-I’m good in my condo.” You blurted out.

The car came to a halt in front of your living complex. With the cheque and the savings you made through the years, you got yourself a spacious condo near the precinct. It wasn’t a _penthouse_ , but it was sufficient for yourself.

 

The doors slid open, the cold air of April engulfing the warmth that had settled in the car. You exited the self-driving machine followed closely by Connor. “You don’t have to walk me to the building, Connor; it’s only a few feet away.” You tilted your head. “We’re not on a date or something.” His LED spun fast.

 

“I just wanted to make sure you went home safely.” His hands buried in his pockets as he rocked on his heels. You smiled again.

“I’m fine, Connor. Thanks for the ride.” You waved at him and resumed your walk toward the entrance of your building. “I expect you Monday, 9 am sharp, _chauffeur_!” You giggled as you looked back and winked at him before you disappeared behind the tinted doors of your complex.

 

∆

 

You dropped your messenger bag on your couch and threw keys on the end table. The curtains of the dining area automatically opened to your presence in the condo, revealing a panoramic view of the city. You went straight to a door of the small corridor leading to your bedroom. You opened a glass door, allowing the cold air blowing in your face as you opened your little wine cellar. You retrieved your favorite bottle of wine and poured yourself a glass.

 

You took a long sip of the alcoholic beverage and quickly refilled it before storing the bottle back where it belonged. “TV on,” You said aloud. A wide rectangular glass flickered alive in your living room, the News Channel animating the silent condo. Once you were in something more comfortable, you plumped yourself down on your couch, your wine glass secured in one hand as the other tapped on a tablet balanced on your knees. The electronic device chimed.

 

> [ **New Notification** : _h. Anderson sent you a message_.]

 

You tapped on the notification popup. A white window opened with Hank’s message.

 

> h. Anderson: _Have you broke Connor again with your flirting?_

 

With a perplexed expression, you slowly tapped in your answer.

 

> you: _no??? smtg happnd?_

 

The familiar swoosh sound confirmed your message got sent. You waited for his answer, your fingers pressed to your wounded temple and winced at the pain. You forgot you had this.

 

> h. Anderson: _For fuck’s sake, write in English!_

 

You chuckled out loud.

 

> you: _you don’t understand because you are_ **_O L D_ ** _. i said: something happened?_
> 
> h. Anderson: _Yeah, he just texted me asking what a date was! What the hell did you say to the poor thing?_

 

You let your head fall back on the top of your couch with a sigh escaping your lips. You forgot Connor was taking everything literally. You wondered what it would be like to go on a date with an android. You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head, pushing the thought to the back of your mind.

 

> you: _he misunderstood something i said, he can live with that_

 

You closed the window, ditching your tablet for your work datapad. You ignored the chimes your own electronic pad made as you sunk into reports of the recent investigation.

 

∆

 

Monday morning arrived faster than anticipated. You finished setting down in your condo and worked some more on your Red Ice bust. Most of the unpacked boxes remaining were clothes you were digging out each morning until they were empty. You stored them in your large wardrobe after your laundry, which you were now standing in front of, your hands resting on your hips as you eyed your clothes, in your underwear. You opted for black jeans and a white button-down shirt.

 

After your police badge and holster were secured on your hip, you made your way to the kitchen. You gathered your stuff, swung your messenger bag over your shoulder before grabbing your travel mug filled with freshly brewed coffee.

 

Your eyes fixated on your phone screen to an email from Captain Fowler’s as you exited the building. You took a sip of your drink, feeling its warmth spreading in your chest, fighting the cold weather of Detroit. You shivered. You _definitely_ should get a warmer coat.

 

You closed the mailing app and swiftly pushed the call button for a cab. A black mass in front of you caught your attention. You tilted your head up as you took another sip of your coffee which caught in our throat, sending you in a violent coughing fit.

 

Connor was standing in front of the same black car you both rode yesterday, his hands crossed in front of him. The black coat he was wearing covered his android uniform; the faint LED glowing through the opening of the jacket.

 

“What are you doing here!?” You shouted as you approached him, wiping the saliva mixed with coffee that dripped on your chin with the back of your hand.

“You told me to pick you up at 9 am sharp on Friday evening. And you are,” His eyes blinked a few times before his attention went back to you. “8 minutes late.” You opened and closed your mouth like a fish, lost for words. Connor had taken you seriously.

“I was _joking_ , Connor!” You sighed. “You didn’t have to make such a detour to…” You let out a more profound sigh.

“I don’t get it.” He titled his head, eyebrows knitted together. “Jokes are usually short stories with a punchline.” He tried to understand what he hadn’t in the first place, his LED spinning fast. You shook your head.

“Get inside the car,” you walked past him, brushing his arm slightly with yours. “I have to educate you on modern speech.” His LED swirled a bright yellow as his hand went to the spot you had brushed. Your head peeked outside the car’s door. “You coming?” You asked as you flashed him a bright smile.

“Y-Yes!” He stammered. He fixed his tie, smoothed the front of his coat with his hand and entered the car.

 

∆

 

You did your best to explain to Connor what sarcasm was, as you often used it and you didn’t want him to be offended by what you could say to him. He asked about _the date_ you were talking about when he dropped you off. You awkwardly explained to him how two people who liked each other and wanted to spend time together often by going out together. It was all new concepts to him; you felt like you were explaining to a child despite the high tech software running in his head.

 

His car parked in the underground parking lot of the police station, but the doors didn’t open instantly. You presumed he could control the vehicle.

 

“Thank you, Detective,” he smiled at you. “I appreciated our little chat. I think I understood most of what you explained.”

“Glad to hear that. Now, we gotta go; Fowler expected me in his office 10 minutes ago.”

 

You both entered the office space, Connor kept asking you questions about the whole “taking someone on a date” ordeal. Soft giggles came from Officer Chris Miller who was leaning on the wall next to Hank’s desk, the latest sat in his chair, laid back.

 

“How cute, Hank. They are wearing matching outfits.” He tipped his chin in your direction. You looked down at yourself, and then looked at Connor. You were both wearing a white button-down shirt and black jeans. Chris’ hand softly slapped Hank’s shoulder. “You think she took it from his place?” You froze. Your grip tightened around your travel mug; your heart skipped a beat. Officer Wilson joined the conversation.

“You both left the precinct together last Friday; now you’re arriving together.” He raised an eyebrow at you, his mug going to his lips.

“He just offered me to drive me home; that’s all.” Your cheeks flared up. Why were you so flustered like the three men caught you doing something bad? “It was a misunderstanding he picked me up this morning, but I appreciate it.” You continued as you looked at Connor, a faint smile on your lips. An “ _aww”_ came from Miller, and you shot him a death glare.

“It’s true,” Connor spoke. “But she educated me; it’s all good now.” You facepalmed yourself as the laughs erupted from the men’s throats.

“Connor, no, that doesn’t sound right…”

 

Captain Fowler’s deep voice filled the precinct with your last name, gesturing to his office with his thumb. “Alright,” you sighed. “This conversation is _over_.” You tossed your belongings to Wilson who was the closest to you. He yelped as he tried to not spill coffee on your coat and bag, balancing the objects in one hand.

 

“You think they will be signing an HR relationship disclosure?” Chris whispered to Hank loud enough for you to hear.

“Be careful, lover boy,” Hank called out to Connor. “She can bite. _Hard_.” Your head snapped in his direction; you mouthed a “fuck you” to the old man before you stepped inside Fowler’s desk, daggers in your eyes. You glanced briefly at Connor who was sitting at his desk, his LED, once again, shining yellow.

 

You took a seat in one of the chairs, crossed your legs and rested your elbows on the armrests each side of you. The Captain took his place, his palms pressed on the surface of his desk. “You are late,” he growled.

 

“I will arrive on time when DPD will pay me a car like Cyberlife gave Connor one.” You replied. Fowler gave you a warning look, and your body slumped down in your chair. “Sorry,” you muttered. “It won’t happen again.”

“The tardiness or the sarcasm?”

“Both.” Your Captain nodded. He cleared his throat and locked eyes with yours. “I called you here because some changes will happen.” It piqued your curiosity, and you straightened yourself in your seat.

“What kind of changes?” You asked.

“You will be assigned a partner to assist your investigations.”

“What?” You scoffed. “C’mon, Captain, you know me better. It was just a small, dumb mistake-”

“A small, dumb mistake that almost cost me one of my best detectives!” He raised his voice, cutting you off. “You will be assigned a partner whether you like it or not.”

“Can I choose him?”

“No,” Fowler answered dryly. “It’s Officer Miller.” You let out a frustrated sigh. You liked the guy, always helpful, funny and one of the nicest person you’ve met, but you believed that you would not survive another week of teasing remarks from Chris.

 

You stood up and walked to the door. “I’m not done with you.” You turned around, and Fowler pointed the chair you were previously sitting on. Once you were back in front of him, he continued. “I know your last investigation drained you, and you decided not to take a break as I recommended,” He leaned slightly forwards. “This attitude of yours? You better knock it off! You have to respect your superior; you will stop talking back, you will stop storming out of my office when you’re upset when I’m speaking with you, and you will follow orders. Did I make myself clear? If you would like to join Reed’s so-called vacation, be my fucking guest.” You chewed the inside your cheek until you tasted a hint of blood. You did roll your tongue seven times before you spoke.

 

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, get out of here for another lead and instantly report to me when you have it,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and sticking with me! I'm currently writing chapter eleven and I love where this is going! Hope you'll still be there once I get to post the chapter ;)
> 
> Thanks again to Leia for proof-reading <3 My story wouldn,t be half as good without your input, babe!
> 
> Feel free to comment, talk to me, I love having your feedbacks!


	6. On Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you almost pass out, and Hank buys you food.

 

> **April 18th, 2039 - 1213 pm**

 

As a form of rebellion of the Captain’s new orders, you spent your whole morning in the precinct’s gym running, punching and lifting. You were out of breath fast due to your new smoking habit, but you needed to unleash the anger bubbling inside of you, and the empty gym was the perfect place. You rested your palms on your knees while body bent forward, panting. Drops of sweat dampen your face, slowly dripping and splashed down to the rubber floor.

You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand as you straightened up your posture. Your face was flushed, the front of your shirt soaked with all the efforts you put in your improvised workout and your hair was a mess. You let yourself fall on the wooden bench beside your water bottle and towel, hanging the latest around your neck before you grabbed your bottle and took a long swig of it. Your heartbeat slowed down to a more regular rhythm. You sprung to your feet, deciding to go at it one last time before you headed to the shower.

The treadmill ran to the highest speed you could keep up. You burned the remaining energy you had before you yanked on the emergency string to stop the machine. You lifted yourself with the bar each side of the treadmill until it slowed down to a walking pace. You lowered yourself down and let yourself rolled off of it. You let your body fall on the cold rubber floor, shielding your eyes with the crook of your elbow, taking in deep breaths. Your lungs were burning and tears mixed with the sweat dripping down the side of your face to your messy hair.

You heard shuffling. You lowered your arm and opened your eyes. Connor’s face was inches above yours, his eyes studying your figure thoroughly. A yelp escaped your mouth as you rolled away. “Connor!” You growled. No matter how much you told the android you hate to be surprised like that, he kept doing it.

“I’m sorry, Detective,” He remained crouched. “We were getting worried since we had not seen you for a few hours. You were also laying on the floor motionless. I had to make sure you were alright.” he stood up and made his way to you, offering you his hand. You secured your grip around his wrist, and he lifted you as if you weight the same as a feather. He brought you close to his chest, still holding your arm. His free hand grabbed your other arm as worried filled his brown orbs. His LED spun fast as he was taking in every information he could get out of you with a simple blink of an eye.

“Your blood pressure is getting low, and you might experience lightheadedness, nausea and extreme fatigue in the next seconds.”

“A what- what did you say?” Your head went spinning.  _ Fast _ . You were in a carousel set on the highest speed, and you couldn’t get off. You stumbled backward, your feet didn’t coordinate together, and you tripped on your foot. Connor’s arm snaked around your waist to prevent you from falling. He called out your name, shaking you slightly. He led you to the bench were your belongings remained, crouching in front of you to level his eyes with yours. You kept them closed and tried to steady your head from the spinning; the heat was getting unbearable.

“Sorry,” You mumbled. “It wasn’t a good idea to work out with an empty stomach.” You chuckled faintly. Connor’s hand was resting on your hip while the other remained locked on your wrist. Your grip loosened up around his, barely holding on. His LED kept circling and flickering as he studied your features.

“Do you need medical assistance?” Connor asked, his hand squeezing your wrist.

“No,” You waved him off. “I need to eat something. I’ll ask Hank to drive me to Chicken Feed.” The room stabilized around you, and you felt less nauseous. You smiled at Connor before getting up to your feet. You grabbed your belongings on the bench. “Thank you, Connor. I’ll be fine.”

“Do you want me to stay with you in case you faint?” He asked.

“No, I’ll be alright. Go tell Hank I’ll be ready in 20 minutes for our lunch date, whether he likes it or not.”

You walked out of the gym to the showers of the locker room, piling your clothes in the corner of the shower cabin. You drenched yourself lukewarm water to clean yourself off from sweat. Once done, you dried yourself quickly before putting on your work clothes. You brush your hair in a hurry with your fingers and shoved your workout clothes in the duffel bag.

Hank was waiting at the top of the stairs leading to the gym.

“There’s no way I’m buying you dinner.” He crossed his arms on his chest. You arrived at his level.

“But I’m a poor, weak detective who hasn’t eaten Chicken Feed in two years!” You joined your hands together, trying to give him the puppy eyes look even tho it never worked with him. Hank sighed, annoyed.

“Yeah, you worried my partner all morning with that little stunt of yours down there.” He clicked his tongue and retrieved his car keys from his coat pocket. “Next time, I’ll order him to leave you passed out on the floor.”

 

∆

 

You bit in your hamburger with a moan of satisfaction. “This is so good. I missed this.” You exclaimed with a mouthful of your meal. Hank chuckled as you devoured your hamburger. He looked at you with a cocked eyebrow before he scoffed and took a bit of his dinner.

Hank introduced you to the food truck not long after you started working together. At first, you refused to eat from there as its hygiene license was expired for years, but the old man had tricked you into eating one of their hamburgers and from that day on, you were hooked.

You both stood at your usual table under the small umbrella that shielded the shy rains of sun piercing through the cloudy sky. You rubbed your hands together, April was cold, and the air started to numb your fingers.

Hank laid his sandwich down on its wrapper and took a sip of his beverage before turning his attention to you. “So,” he cleared his throat. “You’re talking to Miles again?” It sounded more like a statement than a question, but you could hear his displeased tone. Miles’ file was in the Detroit Police data, and Hank didn’t need your permission to dig into it.

You chewed the inside of your cheek and stuffed your hands in the pockets of your jacket. Hank’s opinion about the guy wasn’t positive, and you didn’t want to have that conversation with him. Not right now. Your old partner looked at you, waiting for your answer. You nodded slightly.

“Yeah, we are on… speaking terms.” You answered, averting your gaze somewhere else, away from Hank. “He’s getting better.” You continued.

“He was arrested for drug possession and money laundering three months ago.” He kept a tab on his file, as you could see. You shifted in place and crossed your arms on your chest. You  didn’t want to have that conversation.

“He’s getting  _ better, and I _ didn’t say he was perfect!” You shook your head. “He made bad choices, but he’s not a bad person, Hank.” He scoffed and finished his meal. Your foot kicked a small rock on the ground as an awkward silence fell.

Hank dumped his trash in the bin close to the food truck and walked to his car. You silently followed and took place on the passenger seat. His hands rested on the steering wheel; he looked straight ahead. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble.” He finally spoke. His eyes turned to you. “I know how much your job means to you. I don’t want you to lose your badge because the guy is back in the decor.” You nodded slightly.

“Don’t worry, Hank,” You answered softly. “I don’t plan on protecting him. I know what he did was wrong and I would never defend his actions.” Your eyes went to the tip of your shoes. “But there is so much more to the story,” You muttered. Hank’s bobbed up and down slightly. He turned the key in the ignition, and he drove back to the precinct. 

 

∆

 

Back at the police station, a document sat on your desk. A smile spread on your lips as you read the headline of the pile of paper “ _ Andrei Dahmer’s phone calls log.” _ You sat down and got to work. You read through the whole thing a few times before you highlighted recurring numbers in the list. You found three phone numbers who could be helpful in your investigation. The first one was logged into the system of your terminal and a few seconds later, a profile loaded on your screen. “Oh no…” You muttered to yourself.

You minimized the page and walked to Hank’s desk with the log history in your hand. He was focused on his terminal, looking up some files and you pulled him out of his work by slapping him lightly on his shoulder. You leaned forward slightly, keeping your voice low. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Connor’s head lifting to look at you. 

“Do me a favor and  _ accidentally _ break your phone and get a new one. New number, new  _ everything _ .” You whispered to him.

“Why would I do that?” He asked in a loud voice. You shushed him and dropped the document in front of him, your finger pointing to a phone number.

“I don’t want people to dig in his stuff and find  _ your _ number in  _ his _ log history.” Hank let out a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I won’t say anything, but you have to do what I said.” Hank nodded.

“Alright,” He dug his phone from his coat pocket. “Hey Connor, wanna see a picture of Sumo?” Hank took the android by surprise as he threw his phone at him, missing him by several feet. The mobile device crashed on the hard floor of the precinct behind him. 

Connor retrieved the phone, and the screen flickered under the badly cracked glass. The android looked genuinely sad. “Your phone is severely damaged, Lieutenant. I can’t look at the picture you wanted to show me.” His artificial skin retracted as he tried to connect with the device, revealing his white porcelain hand. He shook his head. The phone was dead.

Hank waved him off, telling Connor he would bring him to his house to see the dog eventually. You pat Hank’s shoulder with a knowing smile. The man winked at you as he resumed his work and you went back to do the same at your desk. 

You obtained the full record of Pedro Aabdar, and you grabbed your coat, ready to head out of the precinct to interrogate your new suspect. You approached Officer Miller’s desk and knocked on it with your knuckles to get his attention. 

“Come on, Miller. We have a fresh new lead for my case.” You grabbed your keys and walked towards the exit, but a deep voice stopped you, your last name echoing on the walls of the quiet precinct as it rolled out of Captain Fowler’s tongue. Your body jerked towards Chris who minimized a direct message window with the Captain. A frustrated sigh escaped your lips before you spun on your heels to face your superior standing in the door of his office. He looked at you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” He warned you.

“Sir, yes, sir!” You flatly answered. Wilson grabbed his coat and stood beside you.

“Don’t worry, Captain. I’ll keep an eye on her.” You clicked your tongue in annoyance. You knew the officer had to report to Fowler all your actions, and that pissed you off. 

You got behind the wheel and slammed the door shut angrily. Chris soon joined inside the car and buckled up his seatbelt. “Don’t be too hard on him.” He spoke. “He just wants to protect you.”

“I don’t need a second mother.” You growled. Chris chuckled as he laid back in his seat as you drove out of the underground parking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay between last and this chapter! My beta was busy and I hate rushing people.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed, thank you for reading c:


	7. Software Instability Intensifies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you bleed and Connor is worried.

****

 

> **April 18th, 2039 - 0258 pm**

 

The car stopped on the other side of the road, across Chicken Feed. You spotted Pedro leaning back on the metal counter, his elbows barely resting on its surface while chatting with Gary, the owner of the food truck. His accent was distinct, and you could hear the dialect punching through the sound of raindrops drizzling down.

 

“That’s your guy?” Chris asked.

 

“Yeah,” You mumbled. “This won’t be fun.” You exited the car and fast-walked to your suspect. Chris followed you, adjusting his hat on his head. A smile spread on Pedro’s lips as you came in sight.

 

“I didn’t believe the old grump when he told me you were back!” His eyes landed on Officer Miller who stood beside you, straightened spine, and thumbs hooked on his belt loops. Pedro started to shift nervously. “Is there a problem, _officers_?”

 

“Hopefully not,” You raised an eyebrow at him. You took a step towards him. “I just want to ask you a few questions.” The man rubbed his hands together, nodding nervously. “Andrei Dahmer,” He flinched at the name. “Can you tell me anything about him?”

 

“You’re asking me a difficult question, Detective Sweetheart,” He continued to rub his hands to hide their shakiness. “He’s not a clean guy, that’s for sure.” You raised a knowing eyebrow at him. _You neither,_ you thought. Pedro chuckled as if he read your mind, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

 

“He’s often hanging out downtown near the Eden Club with some weird guys. Saw him there a couple of times, but,” He shrugged. “I barely talk to him.”

 

“Oh really?” You said, crossing your arms, and tilting your head to the side. “Why do I have your phone number logged in his call history _53 times_ in the past month?” Chris’ tongue clicked in annoyance. You shouldn’t disclose information to your suspects, but that one escaped your mouth before you could think. But if you wanted Pedro to talk without taking him into custody, you had to prove some things.

 

Pedro’s jaw tensed up as his eyes shifted anywhere but towards you. “You know me, sweetheart. I have my _affair_.” He chuckled, and his right hand frantically scratched the back of his neck. Bingo! You got him cornered.

 

“Oh, yeah, what is it?” You asked with an innocent voice.

 

“Come on,” he breathed out. “Don’t make me say it…”

 

A car door slammed and caught the attention of the three of you. A tall buff man stomped towards your little group, pointing a finger to Pedro, already cursing him with the worst names imaginable.

 

“Aabdar, you _motherfucker_ !” He yelled. “You made me lose all my money because of your supposedly _shit hot tip_!” You and Officer Miller both ready your hand over your gun as the man got closer. You instinctively stepped forward, getting in between Pedro and the angry man.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, bro!” Pedro answered, backing away slightly. The large man shoved you aside and grabbed Pedro’s collar, closing the distance only inches apart. The reek of alcohol emanating from him and his glassy eyes gave him away. Chris stepped in, trying to pry the man off Pedro, but he wouldn’t budge.

 

“Your fucking _bet_ ! I lost all my fucking money! That horse you told me would _win_ came in _last_!”

 

“Sir, we’re going to ask you to calm down and step away from this man,” Chris’ gun was in his hand, thumb ready on the safety. “Please, or we will have no need but to use force.” He warned the man.

 

“ **_Fuck off!_ **” The man spat at your partner. “Your shady gambling is costing me my marriage!” He continued to yell at Pedro’s face.

 

“Alright, that’s **enough**!” You cried out. You grabbed the man’s arm and tried to pull him off Pedro, but his grip was steel-like as his knuckles turning white around Pedro’s collar. “Let him go!” You said louder. The man’s eyes snapped in your direction, anger filling them.

 

Everything happened so fast.

 

His fist flew to your face. You stumbled backward with a stinging pain on your nose and upper lip. With a blurred vision, you saw Chris tackling the guy on the ground and handcuffing him while Pedro backed away. The man kept lashing out insults over insults to the gambler. Chris’ hand went to his radio on his shoulder as he requested back up before his head lifted to you.

 

“Are you alright?” he called out your last name. You nodded, slightly dazed. Your hand went to your face as you felt a warm stream of liquid going down your chin. You looked back at your fingers covered in crimson color. A curse escaped your lips as you wiped the dripping blood with the back of your hand, but it kept bleeding, staining your shirt.

 

You yanked Pedro’s arms and mercilessly handcuffed his wrists before he could realize what was happening. “Alright, Pedro, I’m apprehending you for suspicion of illegal gambling. You’re coming with me to the precinct for an interrogation.” You huffed. The man laying on the ground was still spitting his anger out at Pedro, Chris crouched beside him, making sure he wouldn’t try to run away or attack your suspect. He spat at you, the projectile getting on your shoe as you let out a disgusted noise.

 

“Not nice, dude!” You exclaimed as you moved farther with Pedro, your hand still holding onto the chain between the cuffs.

 

Police sirens reverberate in the distance. Soon the red and blue lights flashed at the corner of the street as the backup team arrived on site. They took the big man with them in their car. The two officers gave you a weird look, and you remembered your bloody face. You shrugged it off, telling them it wasn’t a big deal while you walked Pedro to your car.

 

The ride back to the precinct was quiet. You kept licking your upper lip that got slightly cut from your teeth biting into it with the punch. You exited the car with Wilson and led Pedro to an interrogation room.

 

As you passed in front of the desks’ space, Hank stood up at the sight of you, followed by Connor whose LED flashed a bright yellow. You turned your attention to your partner. “Get him into room one. I’ll be back in a minute.” Chris nodded at your request and brought Pedro to the back of the precinct. You made your way between the desks to yours, trying to avoid the curious stares of the officers around you.

 

“What the _fuck_ happened?” Hank furrowed his brows, making his way around your desk to get closer to you.

 

“Detective,” Connor grabbed your forearm and spun you towards him. His LED shifted between blue and yellow as it spun to a mad speed, his eyes analyzing your face. “You have severed blood vessels, and your-”

 

“I’m fine!” You cut him off. “I just need to wash my face, and it doesn’t hurt that much.” You lied. You grabbed your datapad, and made your way to the interrogation room, unaware Hank and Connor had followed you. When you felt their presence, you spun on your heels to face the two men. You were already annoyed you were hit, and your Captain would give you _another_ lecture on that; especially to be followed like a sick puppy because you were bleeding a little.

 

Hank sensed your annoyance and grabbed the datapad from your hands before you could say anything. “I’ll wait in the observation room.” You nodded at him. It wasn’t the time to ask questions. He knew it, and you were grateful for that.

 

But Connor…

 

“What happened, Detective,” he said your last name in a worried tone. “Who did that to you?” He stepped forward, the space between his eyebrows knitted together and his LED kept spinning. You held your hands up, trying to calm him down.

 

“Everything’s alright, Connor. Don’t worry about me.” You tried to smile, but the pain on your upper lip returned. You licked your lip and tasted copper. “I just need to clean myself up.” You excused yourself and headed to the bathroom to clean the blood off before you interrogated Pedro. You splashed water on your face, the water tainted red in the sink as you wiped the crimson away.

 

Your head turned in the direction of the door when it opened on a worried Connor. You rolled your eyes before you wiped your face dry, being careful not to provoke another bleeding from your upper lip. The android made his way to you, his eyes fixed on your figure, analyzing every inch of your face.

 

“The man is in custody. He will be charged for assaulting a police officer.” He spoke, eyebrows knitted as he watched you patting your swollen upper lip with the tips of your fingers.

 

“Does it hurt much?” His hand went to your arm, and you turned your head in his direction. His LED flickered between blue and yellow.

 

“Connor, are _you_ alright?” His hands cupped your face as he stabilized your head to deepen the examination of your wound. You knew he could analyze every nerve, every cartilage and every vein in your nose without requiring physical touch. Your eyes met his, you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came to your mind as you were lost in his deep brown eyes.

 

“No fracture,” he finally spoke, his hand falling to his side. “But it will take a while to heal.” You stood still, taken aback by what happened. You could still feel Connor’s touch on your face and tried to repress the warmth spreading on your cheeks. You cleared your throat and averted your gaze elsewhere.

 

“Thanks, Connor,” you spoke softly, a small smile spreading on your lips. You exited the bathroom followed closely by the android. Your hand hovered the LED pad of the interrogation room, waiting for your handprint to grant you the access, but you turned your head to the android who was staring at one of the holding cell - the one with the big guy from the Chicken Feed altercation, to be exact. You could hear his angry shouts coming from the cell, muffled by the thick glass preventing him from running on a rampage in the precinct. You called out to the android whose attention was focused on the man. His LED spun yellow, and his eyes finally landed on you when you called him again.

 

“ _Don’t_ do anything stupid, I am _fine_ .” You tried to smile, but the pain was unbearable. “He will be charged and that’s enough. _Understood_?” You maintained eye contact until his expression soften and he nodded. You made sure he was nowhere near the holding cell before the door slid open on a cuffed Pedro in the interrogation room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! Sorry for the radio silence, I haven't given up on this story yet~


	8. High Tech Lie Detector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Connor is used as a lie detector.

> **April 18th, 2039 - 0414 pm**

 

Officer Miller sat across Pedro with your datapad displaying his file. Hank must have given the device to him before he locked himself in the observation room. You sat down as you apologized for the delay. Your upper lip throbbed, and you tried your best to ignore the pain.

 

“Alright,” you exhaled, closing his profile on the pad. Chris raised an eyebrow at you. 

 

You extended your hands and freed the man from the handcuffs. Pedro’s eyes widened in surprise. “I have no concrete evidence that the altercation earlier was about illegal gambling. The man was angry and seemed to be under the influence, so we can’t take his words for granted.” You winked at him. “You’re off the hook.  _ For now _ .” Pedro smirked at you and rubbed his wrists. 

 

“You are my favorite cop, and you know that, sweetheart?” A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, fully knowing Hank was probably rolling his eyes on the other side of the two-way mirror.

 

“Let’s get started.”

 

Chris cleared his throat and gave Pedro the Miranda warnings. When he was sure your suspect knew his rights, he began the interrogation.

 

“For the record, can you state your name?” He asked. 

 

“Pedro Aabdar.” The young man answer, crossing his arms on his chest. 

 

You swiped your screen to find another file — a picture of Andrei Dahmer, to be exact. You slid you pad carefully, and Pedro’s head followed the movement. “Do you happen to know this man?” His eyes briefly went to the LED screen before he focused his stare back on you. 

 

“I plead the fifth.” He flatly replied.

 

At that moment, you swore you heard Hank cursing on the other side of the mirror. More attempts from Chris to pressure Pedro to give details were unsuccessful. It’s all nothing, except for the constant repetition of pleading the fifth amendment. After it felt like forever and your focus was barely existent due to your throbbing lip, you stood up, eyeing Pedro as you took your datapad back. You exited the interrogation room along with Chris for a quick break. Your fists tightened at your side, if only you could rough him up a little bit to get him to talk, you would. 

 

The observation room door opened on a pissed Hank. He was about to press his palm on the LED pad to step in the interrogation room, but you grabbed his arm and yanked it back.

 

“Don’t. You’ll make things  _ worse _ .”

 

“Will I?” Hank’s head snapped in your direction. “Because he is doing a  _ goddamn _ great job at screwing himself alone!”

“ _ Hank _ ,” you said between gritted teeth, quickly eyeing Chris beside you, hoping he would get the message to shut up. Hank looked at the officer for a brief moment before exhaling loudly from his nose. If Chris knew you or Hank were protecting Pedro, he could snitch you both to Captain Fowler, and you’d lose your badge immediately. 

 

“I’ll let you guys take care of him,” Chris took a step back. “I’ll be at my desk writing my report if you need me.” You felt a rush of warmth spreading into your body as your heart skipped a beat. You were doomed. 

 

“Miller, I can explain-“ You hurried, but your partner waved you off with a small smile. 

 

“Don’t worry,” He shook his head. “I think there is more to the story I should know, but it’s none of my business.” He walked back to the bullpen. 

 

You still felt uneasy, scared his report to Fowler would incriminate you and Hank in protecting a repeated offender. He wasn’t clean,  _ you _ knew it,  _ Hank _ knew it, and now  _ Chris knew it _ .

 

You shook your head. This was a problem for later. Now, you needed Pedro to talk to get your investigation going, and it wouldn’t go anywhere with Hank yelling at your suspect.

 

You needed him to spit something other than a repetitive plead of the fifth.

 

Hank grew impatient, and he crossed his arms on his chest, sighing loudly to get your attention. “So, what now?” He huffed.

 

You looked around and spotted Connor walking to the breakroom holding several mugs. You chuckled as you realized they were the ones left on Hank’s desk. The android was probably done with his work and found something to do in the meanwhile. Then an idea popped in your head.

 

“Connor!” You called out to him. He flinched, and a mug escaped his grip. His quick reflexes sprung to life, and he caught the cup before it shattered on the floor. You walked up to him at a fast pace, grabbing some of the mugs from his hands once you were by his side.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” You apologized with a small smile. Connor reciprocated the smile and tilted his head to the side. 

 

“Do you need my assistance, Detective?” 

 

“Yes, I need a lie detector.” His brows knitted together, and he opened his mouth to say something but closed it right away. His eyes wandered around before focusing back on you.

“I’m not sure I understand your request.” You grabbed the remaining of the mugs from his hands and quickly went to the breakroom to store them in the sink. You made a mental note to order Hank to wash his dirty cups and remind him Connor wasn’t his maid. 

 

You grabbed Connor by the arm and led him to the interrogation room. Hank still waited in front of the door and shook his head as he saw you approaching with his partner. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

 

“Pedro won’t talk,” You stopped in front of the old man, letting go of the android’s arm. “But his body will.” Your hand went to Connor’s shoulder, and you squeezed lightly. “ _ He _ can read his body language better than anybody else. Do you mind if I borrow him for my interrogation?” Hank raised his eyebrows, his stare shifting between you and Connor. 

 

“I’m not his owner,” he scoffed. “You should ask  _ him _ , not me.” He was right. You turned your head to Connor, who was already looking at you. 

 

“Do you want to be my lie detector,  _ Detective Connor _ ?” You smiled softly, trying not to open the wound of your upper lip. You didn’t want another flow of blood running down your face.

 

“It would be a pleasure, Detective,” your name left his lips with a joyful tone. Hank rolled his eyes and muttered something about  _ kids these days _ before disappearing into the observation room.

 

You laid your right-hand palm on the surface of the biometric scan. Green filled the screen, and the door slid open. Pedro was sitting still, his arms crossed on his chest, looking around in the room. You took your seat across your suspect with Connor beside you.

 

“Let’s do this again,” You exhaled as you opened the datapad that laid still on the table. “If you don’t mind, Connor will assist me for the interrogation. Do you have any oppositions?” You cocked an eyebrow at the man in front of you. His eyes lingered on the android before he shook his head. The tablet was turned in Pedro’s direction again, showing Andrei Dahmer’s mugshot. 

 

“Is it true you have been in contact with Andrei Dahmer in the past month?” 

 

“I plead the fifth,” Pedro replied. You swipe left on your tablet, and the phone log appeared on the screen, Pedro’s phone number highlighted several times.

 

“You called him a few times, didn’t you?” Connor leaned forward, his crossed arms on the table, his stare fixed on the man sitting across from him. Pedro’s posture started to descend, and his shoulders flinched inwards, slightly bothered by the android gaze. 

 

“I-I plead the fifth,” He persisted. 

 

“Why? Why did you call him?” You leaned back on your seat, resting an elbow on the back of the chair. “Was it a money matter?” You rested your cheek on your closed fist, waiting for an answer. Pedro kept silent, and your eyes drifted to Connor. 

 

“I plead the fifth.” He continued in a less assured tone.

 

“His heartbeat sped, and his perspiration increased.” Pedro flinched.

 

“It  _ was _ a money matter,” you muttered to yourself and swiped again on the datapad. “And  _ what _ was the money matter?” Pedro’s eyes darted back and forth. He refused to make eye contact, and that was giving him away.

 

“He knows something.” The android spoke. Your suspect wiped his moist palms on the fabric of his pants, cursing under his breath. 

 

“Alright, yes,  _ I do _ !” He raised his hands in defeat before he let them fall on his laps. You exhaled, satisfied. You straightened yourself in your seat and leaned forward.

 

“Then tell me, Pedro! If you keep pleading the fifth and refuse to answer, I can only suspect you of being an accomplice in whatever troubles Dahmer’s getting himself into, and believe me; it’s _ not pretty _ .” The man nodded slowly, wetting his bottom lip for the nth time. He took a deep breath, and his eyes met yours for the first time since the beginning of the interrogation.

 

“He owed me money. I called him because I wanted to know when I’d see the color of it. I lent him some cash so he could pay his rent. Dude was a week late.” You glanced at Connor, who nodded at you.

 

“He’s telling the truth. His heartbeat settled to normal speed, and his hands are less shaky, and-”

 

“Alright,” Pedro cut him off. “This is creeping me out, no need to- to analyze me like that, bro. Just asks your questions. I’ll answer them.” He was getting impatient. He thought he could get away with the silent treatment, but your secret weapon cornered him and left him with no choice but to cooperate.

 

“You told me back at the food joint you saw him near the Eden Club. Do you know what he was doing there?” He shook his head.

 

“He’s lying,” Connor exclaimed, startling you and Pedro. The latter rolled his eyes and leaned back on his seat. 

 

“Tell me the truth, Pedro.  _ Please _ . I don’t want you to get into troubles,” You lowered your voice, hoping the mics in the room wouldn’t catch what you were telling him. Connor’s LED spun fast, and he blinked several times before he turned his head to you.

 

“I temporarily disabled the microphones in the room. You have 57 seconds to tell him what you want to say before IT realizes the anomaly in the system.” You looked at Connor, your mouth agape.

 

“Connor, did you just-”

 

“48 seconds.” He pressed.

 

“Alright,” you shook your head slightly and focused back on Pedro. “Pedro, your encounter with that guy at Chicken Feed will be off the record. I’ll talk to Officer Miller, and you won’t be asked about this matter again.” He looked at you with interest. “I can protect you from whatever troubles that might comes to you if you speak.  _ Please _ , you gotta help me, Dahmer’s business might be more than drug dealing, and I need to  _ know _ !” You slammed your hand on the table. 

 

“Microphones are back up in 6 seconds.” Your hand went to Connor’s forearm, and you squeezed lightly with a small smile forming on your lips in gratitude. You owed him one. The android nodded at you before his attention went back to Pedro. 

 

“What was he doing at the Eden Club?” 

 

“He was trading shit with a shady guy. I don’t know who it was, or what he was trading with him.” He answered. You showed him the picture of the woman at Dahmer’s house. The forensic team found her fingerprints, and she could be identified in the system for theft and drug possession. 

 

“Do you know this woman?” Pedro fixed the screen, and you heard him gulping. Silence fell in the room, and you snapped your fingers in front of Pedro’s face to get him back into reality. He nodded.

 

“Yeah, she’s his… She was his girlfriend,” he trailed off. The man’s aura shifted, he felt uncomfortable, and you could sense it, and so did Connor.

 

“What happened to her?” The android ask. You were slightly taken aback by Connor questioning your suspect, but you were curious to know the answer. Pedro’s reaction to the picture was strange, and you braced yourself for the worst.

 

“I- I heard…” He sighed, and his eyes met Connor’s. “I heard she was killed a few days ago.“ His stare fell to his hands on his laps. “I don’t know why or who did it… I guess that’s what happens when you hang out with a drug dealer.” The pain in his voice pinched your heart. 

 

“So he does deal Red Ice.” You confirmed. He nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

 

“You didn’t ask.” He replied without hesitation. You chuckled slightly and a smirk formed on his lips. 

 

You closed your datapad and slid the device closer to you on the table. Pedro’s head hung low. The confession of the woman’s death seemed to take a toll on him. Or maybe the reality of his lifestyle suddenly caught up to him as he realized he could end up like Andrei’s girlfriend at any moment. If you hadn’t been out there interrogating him earlier, the angry man would have probably used Pedro as a punching bag, and the Chicken Feed would have been a crime scene. He knew he was on the brink of death every day, but it was the only way he learned how to live and to get by with his sketchy bets and menacing connections.

 

“She was a nice girl.” Pedro’s soft voice tore you from your thoughts. “She got caught up in all this, she never asked for…  _ this _ to happen.” 

 

“I’ll stop you right there, Pedro.” You softly spoke. “The altercation and interrogation is already a lot. Why don’t you go rest and come back tomorrow to tell us what you know about her death? We will open an investigation.” He nodded. “Thank you for your cooperation. Lieutenant Anderson will escort you to the exit.” You stood up and as if on cue, the door of the room slid open and revealed Hank. Pedro exited, a small “ _ Thank you, sweetheart _ ” left his lips before he joined your old partner in the hallway. You waited for the door to close behind them before you turned your attention to Connor, who was silent for a long time. Your hand found a space between his shoulder blades, and he flinched to your touch. 

 

“There’s something you’re not telling me, Connor.” He shot you a glance before standing up, a sad expression painted on his face. 

 

“Nothing, Detective.” He took a step toward the door, but he was stopped with your hand holding his forearm. You forced him to face you, and his LED circled a bright yellow before settling to its usual color. Your gaze met his, and he shifted under your grip. 

 

“Connor,” You spoke softly. He pursed his lips before his eyes met yours again. “Is there something I should know?” He seemed to hesitate. Your shoulders relaxed when a smile spread on his lips. 

 

“No, everything’s fine, Detective.” You reciprocated the smile, letting go of his arm. “But it might be useful to your investigation to know the androids found in the basement of your suspect were models created specifically for the Eden Club.” His stared at you, waiting for you to do the math. You raised your eyebrows at him, inviting him to continue. “Maybe there is a reason why Dahmer is hanging around the club.” 

 

Your mind raced, and everything clicked at Connor’s words. You grabbed him by his shoulders, shaking him slightly. “Connor, you are a genius!” A wide smile appeared on your face, and you ignored the pain you felt as your lip stretched and threatened to bleed again. You exited the room in haste, excited to tell Captain Fowler you had another lead.

 

Connor stayed behind, LED spinning yellow. He shook the small smile on his lips as he exited the door, his hand busy fixing his tie. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for keeping up with my slow updates and my story!


	9. Purple Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you investigate the Eden Club.

> **April 20th, 2039 - 1042 am**

 

The lounge music blasted in your ears, threatening a headache to spread in your skull. The dimmed purple lights of the sex club didn’t provide a good lighting source for you to take notes on your notepad. You accidentally left yours on your kitchen island as you were late for work, so you had to to do it the old ways. Your eyebrows knitted together as you read what you had written so far, some words were total gibberish, but you could always ask Connor to analyze your writing to make senses of your scribbles later.

The androids found in Dahmer’s basement were WR400 models, the same employed at the Eden Club. Your main concern was how they got trapped in that dusty basement. You thought your answers might lay inside the walls of the 1177 Woodward Avenue building. 

“Do all the androids consent to work here?” Floyd Mills, the owner of the club, seemed fidgety. You had shown up to the club along with Hank and Connor. The police presence in the club seemed to disturb Floyd and the customers who were taking advantage of the early hours of the club. 

“Yes,” He replied. “And if they decide one day to stop, I let them walk out the door and activate another one from the warehouse… Or I hire a new one.” He shrugged.

“Is Cyberlife still providing you androids?” You tried to write down, slightly twisting your body to get a better light upon the pages of your small notepads, but in vain. 

“When I run out of personnel, yes. Yes, they do…” Floyd nodded. “Is it going to last long?” His eyes shifted to customers who walked out as soon as he saw Hank and Connor standing near the entrance. “I’m losing customers, and I don’t want to lose my license again over some dumb gossips.” He huffed. “Last year took a heavy toll on my finances, y’know.” He was getting impatient, but you had to ask more questions if you wanted to advance in your investigation. 

“The investigation is still ongoing. I can’t tell you anything about your license… Unless you have reasons to lose it…” You cocked an eyebrow at him, and he held his hands up in defense, shaking his head. “I just have a few questions, and we will be on our way.” You quickly glanced at Hank and Connor, and the latter was looking around like a lost child, overwhelmed by the place even though he had been here before. Hank’s back leaned on a wall, his arms crossed on his chest as he waited for you to be done with whatever _you were doing,_ as he said earlier.

“Could you provide us the security footage of the lobby? I would like to see if my suspect visited the club in the past month.” You put away your notepad in its usual place in your jacket. Floyd exhaled in relief as he saw the interrogation coming to an end. 

 

“I’m afraid I cannot,” The owner sighed. “Club policy, you know… I could lose my client’s trust… But we do have a security camera outside… I’ll see what I can do.” You thanked him as he left for his office. 

It was your first time in the club, and everything was so… _too much._ One of the male Traci in the middle of the room danced around the pole and caught your eyes. He winked at you as his hips moved sensually, almost beckoning you to rent him. You shifted your stare elsewhere, feeling slightly uncomfortable and flustered. The color on your cheeks spread as you saw Connor in the distance witnessing the exchange. You exhaled a shaky breath and shook your head, hoping the rush of blood would fade soon. 

You walked to the android and looked at Hank who moved to the front of the club, questioning a customer. You convinced Captain Fowler to let you investigate the sex club with the duo since they were accustomed to the place during their previous investigation with the deviant androids. Connor was willing to help without hesitation, but for his partner, it had been a long process of pleading and promises of paid drinks at Jimmy’s to get him to assist you. 

Hank thanked the man he was interrogation and made his way toward the both of you, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. “No luck.” He said, and you sighed loudly. 

“Someone must know something!” You paced the floor, fingers massaging your temples as you tried to think of how you could get a new lead. You needed to find something, or someone who could give you the slightest hint about Dahmer’s business around the club or Fowler would be pissed you mobilized Hank and Connor for nothing.

“Maybe you should seek on another location,” Hank suggested. “Find new suspects, and maybe you can get a stakeout in front of your guy’s house.” You shook your head and resumed your stand in front of Hank. 

“No! I’m on the right path. I have to keep investigating.” The older man sighed, shaking his head lightly. 

Hank and yourself were too focused on your conversation to realize Connor wandered to one of the female Traci standing in her glass cage.

“Connor,” The android flinched at his partner’s call. “What the fuck are you doing?” Hank shouted as he saw the android standing still in front of the WR400, his stare fixed on the sexbot. “ _Again?_ ”

“What do you mean, _again_?” Your eyebrows knitted together, but Hank waved you off before he joined Connor in front of Traci. The android twisted his neck in your direction and motioned you to come over. As you walked closer, you saw the android’s LED flickering a golden hue, but she kept her seductive façade.

“Her LED’s been yellow ever since we stepped foot in the establishment.” He looked at you, then Hank. “She might know something. We will have to rent her if we want to interrogate her.” His eyes went to his partner.

“Oh, fuck, no! You’re not using me this time.” Hank objected as he crossed his arms over his chest and walked away. “I had a tough time explaining the bill on my expenses account last time.” Connor’s eyes switched to your figure.

“You- You don’t want me to rent this girl, do you?” You asked dumbfounded.

“It’s our only way-” Connor began, but he was cut off by the owner’s pissed voice echoing in the lounge. 

“If you want to interrogate my employees, you’ll have to get a warrant! I lost enough customers because you three were here unannounced, I don’t want any more trouble.” He shoved a USB key in your hands and waved you off. “You have what you need, now leave my club alone! Come back with a warrant!” Hank was about to step in, but you stopped him with a hand on his chest. You shook your head before you turned your attention back to Floyd and smiled at him.

“Of course, we will be on our way. Thank you for your cooperation.” You spun on your heels, glanced at the Traci one last time before you hushed the two men out of the club with you. A sigh escaped your lips as the music faded out of your ears. The quiet street was a genuine relief. 

Hank turned towards you, a scowl on his face. “That was a waste of time.” He grumbled, taking his car keys from his pocket. 

“No, we gotta find a way to talk to that Traci. If Connor’s right, she might know something that could help us in the case.” 

“Help _you,_ ” Hank repeated. “It’s your case, kid, not mine.” Hank’s answers stunned you. He walked to his car, leaving you mouth agape on the sidewalk. Connor’s head alternated between his partner’s figure walking away and yours. He took a step forward you, tilting his head to the side.

“Detective,” he spoke your last name in a soft tone. “I’m sorry for the Lieutenant’s attitude. We are currently-”

“Yeah, I know,” You shook your head, ignoring the bitter feeling in your chest as you watched Hank getting behind the wheel, staring at you both. Hank and Connor had been assigned to investigate the disappearance of Dahmer’s girlfriend. Even with Pedro’s testimony, saying she was indeed dead, there was no concrete evidence of it. Her body was yet to be found, and your prime suspect was on the loose ever since you failed to apprehend him. Hank was on edge by working on a case with so little information, and on top of that, he was losing his time at a sex club. 

You knew he grew impatient rather fast. You didn’t want to hold to Connor too long. “I’m sorry it wasn’t concluding,” You averted your gaze to the tips of your shoes. “I thought the owner would be more helpful.”

“It’s alright, Detective,” Connor reassured you. “You will find a lead soon. You’re good at what you do.” You smiled at Connor, and he winked at you, taking you by surprise. A faint rush of blood spread to your cheeks, and you cleared your throat, ignoring the smile forming on his lips. Hank honked twice, getting Connor and your attention. The android excused himself before he joined his partner in the car.

Your eyes wandered to the club building, the LED panels hurting your eyes as your pupil absorbed the light. You sighed and made your way to your car, trying to find a way to get into the club again and find the same Traci you’ve been thinking about for the past hour. The glow of her LED circling yellow burned at the back of your mind, you needed answers, and you’d get them. No matter what **it takes**. 


	10. Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you get kicked out of a sexclub.

****

> **April 20th, 2039 - 0806 pm**

 

You parked your car in front of the Eden Club, turning the engine off. Rain poured from the sky, the LED sign of the building cast a purple reflection in the puddles in the streets. Customers hurried into the sex club, looking for the attention they couldn’t get with a real human.

 

The remaining hours of your shift served to find a way to get into the club to interrogate the Traci discreetly. Hank and Connor left for their investigation, and Officer Wilson was on patrol, so you were left alone in the precinct, brainstorming on your own. After your fourth coffee, an idea took shape in your brain. 

 

You took a deep breath and opened the door and exited the car. You pushed the baseball cap further down on your head to shield your face as best as you could from the gaze of the customers  _ and the owner _ . You broke into a light jog until you were safe from the rain inside the lobby of the club. You highly doubted you would have been able to get a warrant to interrogate the Traci you were interested in, so you’ll get your answers  _ your way _ .

 

As soon as you clocked out of the DPD, you drove back home to change into old clothes that hung at the back of your wardrobe, dug an old baseball cap from the bottom of your closet and made sure to change your hairstyle so the owner wouldn’t recognize you if he happened to be hanging around the lobbies. You were pretty confident in your approach, but the fear of getting caught wouldn’t leave the back of your mind. 

 

Lounge music met your ears as you entered the red room. You avoided the customers’ stare who were shopping for their sexbot. You kept your shaky hands deep inside your coat pockets. Saying you were nervous was an understatement, it was your first time in a place like this as a customer. You hoped you wouldn’t run into someone you knew, that would be awkward.

 

You made a beeline to the Traci you wanted to interrogate and bumped into a man who was walking towards the same glass cage as you. You lifted your hand towards the pad to rent the android, but he was faster than you.

 

“Sorry, baby doll, this one is mine.” He held his hands to the LED pad, ready to make his purchase. Your hand moved faster than you could think, and you reached out to grab his forearm, yanking it away from the screen.

 

“Oh, you wanna join the fun?” He wet his bottom lip, eyeing you up and down. You tightened the coat around you and couldn’t help yourself from letting out a disgusted noise. 

 

“No, I-I... “ You looked at the Traci, her LED spun madly, flickering between blue and yellow. Worries painted her features, and you needed to rent her before that man. 

 

“Look, babe, we all have our urges, I get it.” He winked at you. “But there are plenty of other Tracis around, unless…” His hand reached to your cheek, but you slapped it away. Without hesitation, you grabbed your badge, still clipped to your waistband, and shoved it in his face. 

 

“Back off before I take you in for sexual harassment.” You spoke in a menacing voice between gritted teeth. The man backed away, colors draining from his face. You held your hand up to the LED pad, your eyes never leaving the man. 

 

“ _ Hello. A 30 minutes session costs $29.99. Please, confirm your purchase.”  _ The electronic voice from the LED pad spoke. You tore your gaze away from him as you completed your purchase, and the glass door opened with a  _ swoosh _ sound. “ _ Purchase confirmed. Eden Club wishes you a pleasant experience.”  _

 

“As you said,” You turned to him. “There are plenty of other Tracis around, knock yourself out.” He nodded and hurried away to another glass cage containing another model of WR400. 

 

“Follow me. I’ll show you to your room.” The Traci kept her seductive front and led you to an available room. The room’s light dimmed to your entrance, and music started to play at a low volume, a song to put customers  _ in the mood _ . 

 

The Traci sat down on the bed, patting the space beside her. You walked straight to the command panel on the left, turned the music off, and turned the lights on.

 

“I’m not here for that.” You mumbled to yourself, but it was loud enough for the Traci to hear from you. The android got taken aback, and scouted further away on the bed, her LED spinning madly. You took off your cap and walked slowly towards the bed, reassuringly raising your hands. She held her knees close to her chest, shielding her body from you.

 

“I’m not here for your service or to hurt you,” Her features soften. “I was here earlier today with another cop and an android.”

 

“Yeah… Yeah, I remember you.” Her body relaxed, and she sat at the edge of the bed, close to where you were standing. You sat beside her on the silky sheets of the round bed, wondering at which frequency they were cleaning the sheets. The thought was pushed away with a shook of your head, and you focused on the android sitting beside you. 

 

“You know something.” You got your phone out of your pocket and opened Andrei Dahmer’s picture. The android sucked in a breath as her eyes landed on the mugshot of the man, the LED turned to a crimson color, her emulated breath got faster, her chest rose in an irregular rhythm as panic settled into her software, a deviant reaction due to an emotional shock she faced. She hugged herself, the smooth skin sunk under her fingertips. 

 

“I lost so many friends,” She whispered, her eyes meeting with yours. “I don’t even know if they are alive…” She trailed off. You spot a robe hooked on the wall near the door. You stood up and grabbed it before you handed it to the poor android who was trying to cover herself. She accepted the garment and slipped her arms in the silky fabric of the robe, crossing it tightly over her half-naked figure. You looked at your watch; you still had twenty minutes left if you didn’t want to spend another thirty bucks. 

 

“How did you lose your friends? What happened?” Your hand went to her arm, and you squeezed it softly in a reassuring manner.

 

“That man,” She let out a shaky breath. “The one you’re looking for.” She swallowed hard, even if she didn’t need to. It was such a human manner. “He was a regular customer. Every Traci he rented eventually disappeared. He… He convinced them to leave the club with him.” A single tear fell on her cheek, and she wiped it off with the back of her hand. She hung her head low, trying to hide the other tears streaming down her face.

 

“Has he ever rented you before?” She hesitated for a moment before she slightly nodded. 

 

“He told me… He told me about a place where we could be free, where we could be away from the men and women laying their hands on us.” She lifted her head to look at you, tears freely streaming down her cheeks. “I didn’t accept. I had this… feeling telling me to stay away, but the others… the others…” She shook her head and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “After they accepted his offer, they all disappeared without a trace, and they were replaced by another Traci as if nothing happened. Every morning, when the club closes for maintenance, I’m scared someone will take me where these Traci all went.”

 

“Do you know where he takes them?” The android shook her head, and more tears escaped her eyes as she closed them. You reach out to squeeze her hand, trying to reassure her. The sudden contact made her flinch, but she relaxed right away. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just know they’ll never see the sun again…” 

 

Your brain ran fast as everything clicked together. The androids in Dahmer’s basement were Eden Club’s models, Pedro’s testimony of seeing your suspect around the club, and now the distressed Traci confirming the man was a customer…

 

Dahmer abducted androids from the club.

 

“I don’t want to die!” The Traci cried as she buried her face into your shoulder. You were taken aback for a few seconds before you held her in your arms, allowing her to cry out her fears, her synthetic tears wetting the fabric of your coat. “I don’t want to die, please, get me out of here, he will come back, he always comes back for androids who have awakened.” Her hand went to her LED, which never stopped spinning a bright red. A glance at your watch indicated you were almost out of time. You held the shaking Traci by her shoulder, backing her slightly to meet her watery eyes.

 

“I will come back for you before he does, I promise.” The android nodded. You still had ten minutes left with the Traci before she needed to go back to her glass cage. You got your phone out of your pocket and quickly sent an email to Captain Fowler. You needed a warrant to investigate in depth the club and to take this Traci to safety before she became another victim of Dahmer. 

 

The door of the room suddenly opened. The Traci crawled further on the bed, distancing herself as much as possible from the oncoming threat. You stood up, and your hand instinctively went to your gun, but it wasn’t attached to your hip as usual. 

 

The owner entered the room, anger twisting his features. “Out of my club.  _ Now! _ ” He spat as he pointed an accusing finger in your direction. “I told you to get a fucking warrant!” 

 

“Sir, I needed to talk to the Traci for the investigation, I believe-”

 

“I don’t _ fucking care _ what you believe!” He yelled at you. “I want you  _ out _ , and I never want to see you step foot in my business  _ ever. Again _ .” The Traci whimpered behind you, and your attention went to her. She held her knees against her chest, tears flowing out of her eyes once again. You tried to reassure her with a smile, but nothing could stop her shaking figure, except getting out of the club, which wasn’t going to happen tonight. 

 

You exited the room and stopped at the owner’s level, your eyes meeting with his. “Whatever you’re hiding,” you spoke in a low voice. “I  _ will _ find out, and I will bring you  _ down _ .” His nostrils flared, and his face turned red. Before he could say anything, you bumped into his shoulder and left.

 

The man from earlier was in the red lobby, you both made eye contact as he flashed you a knowing smirk. He was the one to rat you out to the owner. You shot him a glare before you tighten your coat around your body and stepped outside in the cold rain, leaving the Traci to whatever’s faith the owner reserved her. You hoped he wouldn’t deactivate her and store her away in a dirty corner of the warehouse. 

 

You sought shelter in your car, closing the door with much more force than needed. Your fist met the steering wheel, causing a stinging pain in your knuckles and a honk to echoed in the quiet streets. You sucked in a breath as you shook the pain from your hand, your eyes meeting with the purple LED sign of the Eden Club. 

 

You were onto something; you just needed to dig deeper. 

**Author's Note:**

> gif credit: resourceangel on tumblr
> 
> Thanks to Leia for beta reading through this a second time <3 I appreciate it!  
> Thanks to Celestielle for the ideas brainstorming! <3


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